


Legacy

by JolinarJackson



Series: Mosaic 'verse [7]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Empathy, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JolinarJackson/pseuds/JolinarJackson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a warning from a girl Jack thought was dead reaches Torchwood, it's only the start of a chain of events that proves once again the presence of a darker, more powerful villain hiding in the shadows. Forced to work together with UNIT in the aftermath of the worst series of Rift quakes in history, the team discovers that Torchwood Two is more than just an archive and that Archie McIntyre's dark secrets are coming back to haunt them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Out Of Time, Combat / Doctor Who: The Unquiet Dead, Doomsday  
> Setting: after Hidden  
> Author's Note: Giving credit where credit's due: BitterGrace01 found an error in my UNIT research. Thank you for pointing it out and hopefully, I can at least resolve it a bit in this part. As for the background of this: I have no other explanation but the fact that I love Torchwood Two. It's just such an empty space I could do so much with, as is Archie McIntyre.  
> This took a really long time to get finished and I can only blame real life getting in the way. Real life is also the reason that the next part will be the final one in this verse. While I still want to write for Torchwood, I don't think I can committ to a series of fanfictions anymore.  
> Beta: tardisjournal beta'ed the English version and I'm more than grateful for any input she could give me, despite real life getting in her way as well. *hugs* pechfeder did the German version and I can say that some of the inspiration for parts of this came out of chats we had over food. :)

**Prologue**

 

All she felt these days was pain. 

Her life had changed so drastically in the span of just a few hours. She'd gone from a free spirit to this: locked up, broken, her soul violated and scars telling the story of her torture. 

She'd been happy once, in the company of the person that mattered to her the most – her lover, her friend, her protector – and now she was alone, defenceless, the fight going out of her just like her life was slowly leaving her. 

Nevertheless, she knew she couldn't give in. It meant too much to stay strong, to resist ... but in the end, she also knew her chances were slim. Her torturer was slowly breaking through her barriers and she racked her mind trying to find a way out, because screaming out for the one who'd saved her before wouldn't help. He was gone, far away ... trapped himself. 

If she could only warn _somebody_ , if she only could ... a beloved face flashed in front of her inner eye, a bright grin, blue eyes ... her Jack. He was around, she knew. 

Her Jack. 

She gathered what little strength she had left in her, tried to focus through the pain trying to tear her apart, only one goal in mind now. 

Her Jack ... if she reached him, everything would be all right.

***

Toshiko slapped the last file closed and dropped it onto the pile on her right. She sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes against the harsh glare of the boardroom's neon lights. ”Please tell me we're done,” she asked. 

From his seat on the opposite side of the table, Jack chuckled. "We're done. That's the budget sorted." He sank into the embrace of his own chair. For a moment, nothing but the silence of the Hub at night permeated the air – the gentle hum of the generators and computers, the trickle of the water flowing down the sculpture in the centre of the main room, the flapping of Myfanwy's leathery wings while she flew her rounds.

"Thank God," Tosh muttered and brushed her dark fringe out of her forehead before she rubbed her tired eyes. "Who would have thought it's that complicated?" 

"Says the genius."

"I don't envy Ianto at all," Tosh replied and gave the pile of files a glare. 

"Thanks for staying and helping me with this," Jack said with a deep sigh and she could hear how honest he was with that admission. The budget was a horrible, monthly exercise. One Jack usually undertook with Ianto at his side because everything involving paperwork wasn't really Jack's thing. But this time, Ianto wasn't here, he was far away in Glasgow. Jack had spent the last two days prowling the Hub, loudly complaining and it had become a battle of wills between the other three remaining team members not to offer their help. Tosh had lost. 

She gifted Jack with a smile. "It was impossible for me not to help. The way you've been pouting."

Jack crossed his arms. "I don't pout."

She winked at him and took a sip from her Coke. "When will Ianto be back?" 

"Three more days," Jack answered. "Archie says, he'll have to visit one more time in about two weeks to finalize the training, though." He breathed a sigh of relief. "A good thing, too. We need him here.” 

It had been a tough month. Ianto had spent most of January in Scotland with Archie, training his empathic abilities and only returning to Cardiff a few days in between sessions to train under real-life circumstances. As far as Tosh could tell, he was doing well. He had stopped projecting emotions uncontrollably and seemed much calmer and happier in general. It was a relief after months of uncertainty and emotional turmoil for him. Tosh couldn't be happier for him. 

Instead, she worried about Owen. While he was back at work by now, he still seemed sad and distracted sometimes, keeping himself isolated from the rest of them. He still had trouble getting over losing Diane. It had been a shock when he'd stepped into a cage with a Weevil just two weeks ago, risking his life and seemingly not caring overly much about it. But she also thought that he'd reached a turning point with that event. As if he'd realized after that he'd hit bottom and now was slowly struggling back up. 

At least she hoped so.

Pulling herself out of her dark thoughts, she asked, “Ianto will be fully trained then?" She was far too tired to add worry about Owen to her stressful day and she knew that Jack was concerned as well. He looked wrung out and didn't deserve to be reminded of it right now. This moment, right now, was for them to relax, as they so seldom got the chance to. Especially just the two of them together. 

Jack shrugged. "He'll need a bit of guidance now and then, but Archie seems very happy with his progress."

Jack had closed his eyes. The muscles in his face had relaxed, which had the effect of smoothing out the lines around his eyes and lips. Tosh liked seeing him like that. It didn't happen very often. Jack carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and he seemed to forget, sometimes, that he was just human too.

A yawn forced its way past her lips and she sighed deeply, checking her watch. It was just gone midnight. "I should get home," she said with a sigh, not feeling like she wanted to move at all.

"I'll drive you," Jack replied, but didn't move either. She chuckled and he looked at her with a wink, then his blue eyes flickered to something behind her and he became deathly pale, immediately tense and alert. He got up abruptly, one hand on his Webley, and Tosh sat up, twisting in her chair. 

There, in a corner of the boardroom, stood a girl. Her blonde long hair was hanging over her shoulders, her dark eyes looked at Jack with relief and adoration. "My Jack," she said and smiled, even though it seemed pained and tired.

Jack hadn't pulled his gun, but kept his hand on it. He frowned and his eyes narrowed while he carefully stepped around the table and closer to her. "Rose?" he asked, incredulously. "I thought you … this isn't possible." 

"Don't run, Jack," she said and there were tears in her eyes. "Whatever you do, don't run. Or he'll find us. He'll find us all."

Jack shook his head. "Rose-"

"I can't stay." She gasped and was gone. 

Tosh stared at the spot she'd just stood in, then at Jack who seemed shell-shocked. "Jack?” she asked. “What happened there? Who was that?"

Jack swallowed thickly. "Someone I thought was dead ...," he answered slowly. He blinked and looked down at her. "And that was a warning."

 

**1.**

 

Ianto Jones woke to the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen downstairs and the smell of breakfast. He sighed tiredly. Archie was one of the people who insisted that a day couldn't start out right without a good fry-up. The problem was that Ianto was one of the people who really didn't like to eat a lot in the morning, just needing coffee to get himself started. 

Archie was one of the people who didn't take no for an answer. 

Ianto was one of the people who accommodated their hosts.

He opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. The greyish winter morning sunlight fell through the curtains of the tiny guest bedroom that he called his own at the moment. Ianto's laptop seemed strangely out of place among the antique furniture and the old books crammed into the shelves and piled on the floor. Archie's flat wasn't that small and yet, it always seemed crowded due to the sheer amount of antiques he'd accumulated over the years. 

Nevertheless, it was cosy and Ianto – a bit of an antiques fan himself – felt right at home whenever he came to visit for his training. 

He showered quickly and dressed in comfortable jeans and a blue jumper, then he passed the living room and the door to Archie's bedroom and took the creaking stairs to the ground floor of the house. 

The kitchen was one of the more spacious rooms, also housing Archie's office in a niche that connected to the antiques shop through a beaded curtain. The shop had been acting as a cover for the Torchwood archives for decades, but was actually quite popular. The kitchen's hardwood floor and old appliances made Ianto feel like he'd stepped into the house of his grandmother and there was always some kind of food standing on the counter next to the fridge. Archie's elderly neighbour seemed of the opinion that Archie couldn't feed himself and thus brought cookies and cake as well as various stews to the shop almost every day. 

Ianto pulled the door shut that led to the elevator descending into the Torchwood archives, hearing the locks hidden behind the simple wooden door engage.

Seating himself at the rather big dining table shoved into a corner of the room, Ianto said, ”You left the door open again.”

”You're being an annoying little brat,” Archie answered, setting down two plates with fried bacon, eggs and beans on the table. He slid into his chair. 

Ianto raised his eyebrows. ”It's protocol, though.”

Archie's bright blue eyes locked on his. ”You know, lad, Archie actually managed not to have this branch fall apart in the last seventy years.”

”Will wonders never cease,” Ianto replied. He grinned teasingly and Archie grunted a curse before focussing on the sports section of the newspaper. Archie was one of the most interesting people Ianto had ever met. It wasn't just the fact that he had a vast amount of knowledge about history and everything directly related to it, he could also speak about the last 140 years of human history from personal experience. In the '30s, when Archie had already been an old man and working for Torchwood Two, he'd been involved in an accident that had deposited a large amount of Rift radiation in his body. As a result of time itself manipulating his cells, he aged much slower and was now indeed 140 years old. 

His age was making him a bit odd, though. He spoke of himself in the third person and refused to leave Torchwood Two for anything other than grocery runs and the all-too-frequent visits to the pub. Nevertheless, he was one of Jack's closest friends, not surprisingly if Ianto thought about how Archie's advanced age fit with Jack's immortality. In the end, though, Archie was mortal. He would die one day and Ianto knew that Jack was scared of that day, of losing his oldest friend and confidant.

Archie raised his eyes from the newspaper to look at Ianto, pushing his gold-framed glasses a bit higher on his nose. ”Slept well?” 

Ianto nodded and started to eat. ”Yes.” 

”Jack called again late last night, didn't he?”

Ianto nodded. 

Archie raised his bushy eyebrows and shook his head. ”This day and age, everything's different. People don't even meet up anymore to shag. It's all phone sex and the internet.”

Ianto blushed. ”We didn't ...” When Archie just gave him a pointed look, Ianto felt himself blush deeper. It was true, he and Jack hadn't had anything remotely related to phone sex but it wasn't for a lack of trying from Jack's end or a lack of wanting from Ianto's side. He'd held back, though. It wasn't just that he preferred to be at least in the same room with someone he was intimate with, he also felt a bit exposed with Archie just down the hall – like a teenager experiencing his first crush. He looked down at his plate. ”Apparently, there was some sort of incident with the Rift. He seemed a bit worried.”

Archie picked up his fork. ”Did he _seem_ worried or _was_ he worried?” He dug into his eggs.

Ianto raised an eyebrow. ”You can't use empathy over the phone line, Archie.”

Archie smiled. ”A shame, isn't it?”

”Yes,” Ianto said. ”Yeah, it is.” He didn't want to quite admit that he missed Jack terribly. It was more than just the usual homesickness he got when he was away. It was more than he wanted to admit to.

Archie's voice held a softer tone when he asked, ”All right, lad?”

Ianto nodded quickly. ”Yeah, I'm okay.”

Archie made a face that betrayed he knew better. Ianto gave a shrug and a helpless smile and then focussed on his breakfast.

***

The sunlight streaming through the windows of the bedroom she shared with Rhys hurt Gwen's eyes. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry and her muscles felt strangely strained as if she'd exercised too much … and then she remembered. “Oh God,” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

Rhys's annoyingly happy voice floated in from the bedroom door. ”Wakey, wakey!”

Gwen glanced at the clock, relieved to see that she still had a bit of time before Jack expected her at the Hub. She pulled the covers over her head. ”Let me die in peace!”

”Work's calling,” Rhys answered and she felt him sit down on the edge of the mattress. ”It's your own fault if you get carried away on a school night.”

Gwen just groaned. Rhys got up and she heard him move around the bedroom, trying to tidy up and probably being just as unsuccessful as always. They both had a tendency to clutter up their flat. Between them and their jobs, it just never seemed tidy enough to satisfy Gwen or Rhys's mothers. It was a fate they'd decided they had to bear.

”What did you get up to?” Rhys asked. ”Kiera dropped you off totally wasted. Not that she was faring much better, mind you.” 

”Some blokes bought us drinks. I might have snogged Kiera for a beer.” 

Rhys laughed. “And I missed it!”

”And there was this adorable older bloke who bought us wine ...” She had trouble recalling his features, just remembering that he wore an old-fashioned cravat. ”He was a bit weird.” She didn't quite remember what had happened after he'd joined them at their pub table but it didn't really matter, she guessed with a sigh. 

”Up you get,” Rhys said, sitting on the edge of the bed again and patting her hip.

”I might take it slow.”

”I'll give you a lift if you're ready in twenty minutes.” 

Gwen peeked out of the blanket and looked at him sitting there, looking at her with twinkling blue eyes, his round face creased into a warm smile, and she fell in love just a little bit more. It was so easy to forget about Owen and their little affair like this. ”Will you join me in the shower, then?”

He grinned. ”The hardship,” he said with a mock sigh and then nodded.

***

Jack tried to remain calm but it was hard, considering what had happened. He was sitting at his desk, the door to his office closed and the blinds drawn. He didn't want to be interrupted because he needed to think. Rose's appearance in the boardroom last night had shaken him up more than he wanted to admit. Enough so that he'd called Ianto immediately after he'd assured Tosh that she should go home. His eyes were riveted on the list of casualties from Canary Wharf displayed on his computer. The name Rose Tyler drilling into his eyes, like an insistent ache in the back of his mind. 

It couldn't be. 

But he'd always had a sliver of doubt. The doubt that just naturally arose when someone people loved was reported dead. Maybe somebody had intervened, had rescued her. Maybe this list was wrong, Rose had been with the Doctor after all and the Doctor adored her … but how could she appear here, in the Hub of all places and under such strange circumstances? 

And that warning? 

The ringing of his mobile pulled Jack out of his thoughts and he answered after checking the caller ID. He grinned. ”Ianto Jones, what a pleasant surprise this early in the morning.”

Ianto's voice was neutral and business-like, as always. _”I call you every morning, sir.”_

Jack chuckled and leaned back in his chair. It had become a habit since Ianto had started his training in Glasgow, almost as if they'd never done anything else when apart. Jack calling Ianto in the evening and Ianto calling Jack in the morning. Jack looked towards the door, making sure it was closed. ”It might not be a surprise then, but 'pleasant' still applies.”

_”I agree, sir.”_

Jack smiled. ”So, what are you wearing?” he asked teasingly, propping his feet up on his desk. 

Ianto let hear a mock-exasperated sigh. _”I told you already, sir, phone sex is not for me.”_

”Are you saying I'll have to come up to Scotland to peel you out of those jeans then?”

_”How would you know that I'm wearing jeans?”_

Jack closed his eyes. ”I like the thought of jeans. I'm in that kind of mood today.” It was true that he adored Ianto in the suits he always wore to work, but the thought and fantasy of casual clothing intruded now and then. Maybe because Jack had rarely seen Ianto in them, maybe because Ianto seemed like an entirely different person when he wore them.

 _”What kind of mood would that be?”_ Ianto asked.

Jack refrained from answering. Despite what others might think of his often-times lewd intentions, there was something to be said about he right place and time. It didn't stop him from a last tease. ”Tell me what you're wearing.”

Ianto chuckled. _”No.”_

”You really want me to catch the next flight, then?”

It was quiet on the other end for a moment, then Ianto asked, _”Are you serious?”_

”Are you actually asking that?”

 _”Jack …,”_ Ianto said and then trailed off. The atmosphere between them changed, not turning uncomfortable, exactly, just … earnest. Jack could imagine Ianto sitting in Archie's antiques shop or in the guest room, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't sound like too much of a rejection or hesitation. It had become a pattern ever since Ianto got better at shielding his emotions. Jack had started flirting again – he couldn't help himself really – and Ianto went along with it for a little while until he seemed to realize how very serious Jack was. And he really was serious. He wanted to sleep with Ianto again. Just once without all the crap of the last few months between them, without the shadow of Lisa lingering or the grief over Matthew or Ianto's insecurities related to his empathy becoming stronger or the constant pressure of being a leader on Jack's shoulders. 

Just once, Jack Harkness wanted to sleep with Ianto Jones. He knew they were on the same page with that, but the timing was difficult, as it had always been with them. Jack would love to take a day off with Ianto, take his time. That wasn't quite possible at the moment, though.

 _”Soon,”_ Ianto said softly, like always.

”Okay,” Jack replied, also like always and just like that, their chat reverted back to safe topics like the dreadful weather in Glasgow and how Tosh was trying to make sense of what had happened the night before. ”Tosh couldn't find anything in the Rift readings that could explain what happened. It was Rose Tyler, though,” Jack said. ”I'd recognize her anywhere.” 

_”Maybe someone used her image to communicate with you. Someone who thought you would be more agreeable to listen to them if you saw Rose,”_ Ianto replied. _”Could that be possible?”_

”Yes, of course, but ...” Jack grimaced. “I mean, the way she talked to me, it must have been someone who knows me very well.”

_”You don't think it was actually her, do you?”_

Jack rubbed his forehead, closed his eyes, recalled Rose's words to him. ”No,” he answered slowly, then, stronger, repeated, ”No, it wasn't her. She called me 'My Jack'. Rose would never call me that. She called me 'Jack'. Something about her eyes was off, too.”

Ianto made a thoughtful noise. _”So it was somebody impersonating her.”_

”The question is whether we can take the warning seriously, isn't it?” Jack asked. “I don't understand it, though. She said I shouldn't run. But what from or where to?”

 _”You think it's got to do with time travel?”_ Ianto asked.

”I think so.”

_”But Tosh didn't find any Rift activity?”_

”No.” Jack sighed. ”I didn't say that I get it or that I know what happened, but I think that I should probably not run anywhere for the foreseeable future.”

_”That is if the warning came from a friend and we can't be sure of that, right?”_

Jack closed his eyes and sighed. ”No, I guess we can't.”

***

Tosh jumped when all of a sudden, the Rift detector started to blare, the shrill siren echoing off the tiled walls of the cavernous main Hub. She didn't hesitate to pull up the necessary scans on her computer while Jack hurried towards her from his office, frowning at the flashing lights and wincing at the loud alarm. She switched the siren off, but continued to look at the readings coming in on all four of her screens, flicking between programmes to find the origin and pulling up a map of Cardiff to see where the Rift had opened wide enough to let something enter their world or their time.

"What have we got?" Jack asked, coming to stand beside her and leaning forward to brace one hand on her desk, the other resting on her shoulder reassuringly. 

Tosh frowned at her readings, at the lack of a point of origin on the city's map. "I don't quite know," she muttered. His presence was heavy on her shoulder, his blue eyes focussed on her screens. "It's not Cardiff," Tosh tried to explain. "Not really, we're just ..." She tapped out a few orders and shook her head. "We're not the epicentre for once."

Jack was studying her readings. She knew that he understood quite a bit about the detector himself, even when he deferred to her on a regular basis. "It must be close then to be this strong."

Tosh shook her head again, zooming out on the satellite image and including the whole of South England into the view. "Not close at all.” She typed in an order and the image readjusted itself, zooming out to include the whole of Great Britain. A flashing light finally showed her where the Rift had opened. “Glasgow!”

”Fuck!” Jack cursed, already grabbing his mobile from his pocket.

”Wait!” Tosh said before he could dial, because the detector wasn't done. ”UNIT's systems are sending in readings of more epicentres.” 

”Where from?” Jack asked, leaning closer again. 

Tosh included the data into her equation and the satellite image adjusted again, zooming out to include all of Europe, then Africa, then Russia, China …

”Oh my God!” she breathed. 

America, Australia, New Zealand … finally, it stopped adjusting, showing a map of the world on which ten dots were flashing red.

”We've got ten epicentres,” Tosh said, pulling up longitude and altitude. ”Four of them are known UNIT bases, one is Torchwood Two in Glasgow. We've got five more in as of yet unknown locations. Countries affected are Puerto Rico, USA, Scotland, Germany, Japan, Australia and Italy.”

"Oh no!" Jack said. “No, no, no, no!”

"Jack, tell me it's not what it looks like!"

"How is that even possible?" he asked, readying his mobile again. Before he could dial a number, though, it rang. He picked up immediately, only glancing at the caller ID. "We see it, Ma'am. What's going on?"

Tosh watched his face turn to stone and he squared his shoulders.

"We don't know either, General." He peered at the displays. "It's all of them. All five Rifts on this planet are acting up simultaneously, this shouldn't be possible. Does UNIT have any information?"

Tosh looked at the blinking red dots, liberally spread over the globe. Rift activities. Rift quakes. She'd known that Cardiff wasn't the only city lying under a Rift in time and space. She'd known there were more. Usually, though, they worked independently and aside from the one spot over Cardiff, they were all stable. They shouldn't all show activity, especially not at the same time. Something was seriously, seriously wrong.

"Yes, Ma'am." Jack hung up. "UNIT's got it on their screens as well, of course. General Pizano's briefing their expert as we speak. Maybe we can …" He trailed off when a deep rumbling noise that sounded as if it was coming from below sounded.

”Jack?” Tosh asked, fearful. 

Jack pulled her to her feet and close to him when a tremor shook the Hub, the ground vibrating, dust raining down at them from the ceiling. The lights flickered and the Hub groaned as if the structure of the underground base was being pressed together, strained, might collapse ... the alarm shrieked again when the cogwheel door rolled open, admitting Owen who stumbled over the threshold. "What the fuck?" he asked, leaning back against the door as soon as it closed. "What's going on here?"

Jack waved him over and Owen complied, walking carefully and clinging to the railing of the stairs leading up to their working spaces when the floor suddenly seemed to tilt.

”Jack,” Tosh said. 

He braced them against her desk. ”It's okay,” he said and Tosh closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when the floor righted itself again. Owen reached them, staring at the displays on Tosh's computer. ”What the hell?”

"Rift quakes," Jack said. 

"Yeah, that's obvious," Owen replied. 

"No, real Rift quakes, Owen. Rift quakes in every Rift over the world. The planet is strained at its very core. We can only hope that the tremors only affect the lower subterranean levels and won't reach the surface.” From somewhere, Jack pulled up a wild grin. ”Could be a bit hard to explain away a global earthquake."

"I knew I should have stayed in bed," Owen said and came to stand on Tosh's other side.

"What can we do?" Tosh asked.

"Nothing," Jack answered, taking a deep breath. "We can only ride it out."


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

 

Ariane Weber felt sick, waking up in a cold sweat and shivering.

”Oh God!” Christin gasped next to her, kicking off the duvet. 

Ariane felt stifled by it as well but her limbs didn't want to listen to her. She couldn't move. Their room seemed to tilt dangerously and for a moment, she felt like she was going to fall out of bed. Her arm suddenly reacted, grasping for Christin's hand and squeezing. ”Close your eyes.” She forced the words past lips that felt numb. ”Breathe. Breathe.” She gasped for air herself and then Christin's long arms and legs were wrapped around her, her head tucked under Ariane's chin and her short hair tickling her skin. She felt hot and heavy but Ariane clung to her because her wife was the only real thing right now, the only solid hold she had. 

She hoped Michi was okay. She hoped he hadn't been riding his bike when the wave had hit, hadn't had an accident … she tried to reach out, to find him, but her senses were dulled, scattered. She couldn't feel Michi, couldn't feel her father, couldn't feel anyone but Christin ...

***

Jamie Wheeler pushed open the door to Command Centre Three of the UNIT headquarters in the Tower of London, his Converse trainers silent on the grey carpet. He brushed his dark fringe out of his forehead, wiping sleep from his eyes and quickly taking in the people present. The room was lit only by the huge flatscreen at the front showing a map of the world and two normal-size computer screens in the corner.

General Pizano – the headquarters's commanding officer – turned around to him when he approached. Her friendly face was earnest, her dark eyes shadowed by the low lighting. Her PA Corinne, on the other hand, gifted Jamie with a smile. The two technicians tending to the computers in the corner didn't acknowledge him, tapping away at keyboards. 

Jamie returned Corinne's smile with a short nod and looked at the map on the flatscreen. Ten flashing red lights showed the kind of activity he hadn't thought was even possible. ”Rift quakes!” he said. He stumbled when the base shuddered through another tremor, but caught himself quickly. ”I've never heard of an event that massive.” 

”Doctor Wheeler,” Pizano said, shaking his hand briefly, business-like. She was always like that and even though it was very early in the morning, she looked well put-together with her shoulder-length, curly black hair pinned up and her red beret aligned perfectly on her head. She was a woman who carried her uniform with the confidence of a leader while not being overly aggressive. Jamie was wary of soldiers – he had kind of a history with them – but he liked Pizano a bit more than the other UNIT officers he had to report to in the course of his work. 

”Let me see, let me see,” he said, letting go of her hand and donning his glasses, staring at the large flatscreen. He laughed in disbelief. ”All of them! The Big Five!” He brushed his hair back again and closed his eyes. ”Now, who called in?”

”Torchwood Three was in contact,” Pizano said.

”Not interested,” Jamie answered, waving her words off. ”I need the Big Five only.”

A voice he didn't know – probably one of the technicians – answered, ”Jacksonville, Mito and Greenfield called in.” 

”Padova?” Jamie asked.

”No answer, but our sensors show high radiation levels in the base.”

”They're dead, then,” Jamie said, squeezing his eyes shut. ”Shit! What about Glasgow?”

There was no answer. 

Jamie opened his eyes. ”Glasgow!” he demanded.

Finally, Pizano said softly, ”No word.”

Jamie stared at the map, at the red dot flashing over the city of Glasgow. ”Radiation levels in the Torchwood Two base?”

”Deadly,” one of the technicians answered.

Pizano gave a nod and folded her hands on her back. ”We sent assistance already. To all of the outposts.”

Jamie shook his head. ”Too late. No answer means nobody can answer.” He swallowed and brushed his hands through his hair.

”Doctor?” Pizano asked and stepped closer, lowering her voice. ”I need you to tell me what's going on.”

”How can I if I don't know?” he answered. ”This shouldn't be possible.”

”It's happening, though! Give me something to work with. Anything!”

Jamie scoffed. ”This isn't an enemy you can fight with weapons, General, so I really don't know how you could be of help.”

Her indignant expression was wiped off her face when the room was shook by a massive rocking motion that slammed them all off their feet and chairs. The screen flickered and went dark, the computers switched off with a click. Deep down in the belly of the facility, Jamie thought he could hear the generator whining and then dying. 

The red emergency lights came on. 

Pizano got to her feet quickly, looking at the ceiling. "Will anybody on the surface have felt this?" 

Jamie shook his head and got up himself, helping Corinne to her feet as well. "Let's just hope it was weak enough up there for nobody to get suspicious. The tremors will have been the strongest deep underneath the surface and high in the sky, along the cracks of the Rifts. A bit worse in places like here and Cardiff where the Rifts are opened a bit wider. We felt it this strongly because we're in one of the lowest levels of the base."

Pizano stepped closer to him, staring at him intently. ”No scientific explanation, just a simple answer: Is it over?” 

Jamie sighed. ”Frankly, I don't know. As I already said, I can't remember anything like this ever happening since we started recording. I would have read about it.”

”What does it mean, then? What do you think?”

Jamie buried his hands in his jeans pockets. ”The Rifts are multi-dimensional cracks in space and time. If all five Rifts on this planet have been acting up at the same time – and evidence suggests that they did – then something very bad happened.”

”How bad?”

Jamie shook his head and caught Corinne's eyes as she stepped closer, nervously tucking grey strands of hair that had come lose back behind her ear. Jamie looked back at Pizano. ”Have you got the Doctor's number? You might want to call him.”

Pizano's eyes widened. ”That bad?”

”Something's messing with time. Yes, _that_ bad.”

A new tremor started to shake the room and Jamie sat on the floor to ride it out.

***

Jack pressed Tosh closer to his side while tremors ran through the Hub and Owen huddled closer to Tosh, grabbing onto the leg of her desk. They'd retreated beneath Tosh's desk, all three of them, because it provided enough protection from the falling debris raining down on them. Dismayed, Owen watched one of the screens falling off his desk, taking a mug and a plate with it. The sound of the shattering ceramic was barely noticeable over the groaning of the support beams and the sparks of electric cables coming lose. Still, the lights were on and the phone was working. The Hub could take a lot. 

Jack was clutching the earpiece of the landline to his ear. "What do you mean you can't reach her?” he asked. ”This is Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood Three, I need to talk to General Pizano right this minute!”

Owen saw his face darken, his lips pulling into a straight line.

”I'll call back.” He hung up. ”They lost contact to some of the sub-levels of the Tower. Apparently, the quakes are just as bad there.”

Tosh hung up on her mobile. "I can't reach Ianto."

Jack cursed softly. "Last they could tell me was that Glasgow hasn't called in. UNIT's _Origin_ bases are down." His face was grim, his fingers flying over the buttons of his mobile. "Come on, Ianto, come on."

"Jack," Tosh said, staring into a corner of the room. Owen followed her gaze and froze. There was a girl with long blonde hair and sad eyes standing there, looking at them. She was young, dressed in jeans and a hooded jacket over a t-shirt. 

Owen heard Jack gasp, ”Rose.”

Rose smiled at him. "My Jack," she said with a trembling voice. "I'm sorry." With that, she vanished and the ground started to shake anew. 

***

"Archie!" Ianto called and coughed when dust entered his airways. He stumbled against the wall when another wave hit, showering dirt on him and making the ground shake. He scraped the palms of his hands against the brick and winced at the pain, but didn't pause. He ran on, down the dimly-lit corridor leading into the depths of Torchwood Two. He'd seen this corridor only once before but had been told by Archie that he wasn't to enter, so he never had. 

Until his work in the sub-level archives had been interrupted by quakes running through the base, causing shelves to topple over and loose stones to fall from the ceiling and off the walls. 

Until he'd realized that Archie was nowhere to be found, but the door to this corridor was wide open. 

"Archie!" 

The corridor was steep, unevenly cobbled, leading down in a twisted, slim, tight tube. Ianto's hoodie and jeans were dirty from dust by now and the deeper he went, the worse the tremors he'd felt in the archives became. He was barely able to stay on his feet. 

The lights went out and he stumbled and fell. His jeans ripped at the knee and he cursed. Quickly, he pulled the torch he always brought down to the archives to look into the corners obscured by the weak lamps out of his jeans pocket and switched it on. 

That's when he saw Archie standing in a doorway at the end of the corridor. "Ianto, get out of there!" 

Ianto coughed again and got to his feet, running towards him. 

"The tunnel might collapse," Archie said, grabbing his arm to try and push him back where he'd come from. 

Ianto shook his head, holding onto Archie's forearm. "All the more reason for you to leave as well." He glanced into the room Archie had come from ... and froze. "Holy ..." He stared. 

The room was small, the brickwork done more neatly and more carefully than outside in the corridor. There was no furniture in here, nothing at all, just … it looked like a crack running along the far wall. The light streaming through was bright enough to hurt Ianto's eyes. 

He walked closer, feeling heat and pulsing energy. "Is that ...” He swallowed, remembering things he'd read at Torchwood One and Three about Glasgow and four UNIT bases. Reports filed away under the name _Origin_. “That's the Rift. That's one of the starting points, isn't it?" He stared at the crack and reared back when it seemed to expand. 

A shrieking noise distracted him and he noticed Archie holding a rectangular scanner in his hands on which a small screen was giving him readings. "Ianto, get back," Archie said. "Radiation levels are climbing."

He swallowed. "It's supposed to be inactive, isn't it? Not dangerous."

"It's supposed to," Archie answered with a dark frown, his bushy eyebrows drawn together. "Exactly." The scanner in his hand started to beep. "Damn, there's the next wave coming. We need to get out of here, I need to call UNIT."

In that moment, the ground shook again and the crack's light became brighter until Ianto was forced to close his eyes. He felt himself being lifted off his feet and thrown through the air. He slammed against the wall in the corridor, and the wind was knocked out of him. While he was still trying to get air back into his lungs, his visions obscured by tears, parts of the corridor's ceiling came raining down. He choked on a scream when his leg exploded with pain and put his arms over his head instinctively. When it was over, his ears were ringing, his vision swam. He heard Archie call his name frantically and tried to get to his feet but he couldn't move his leg. "Archie?" He coughed. 

The scanner was blaring. 

"Ianto!” 

He forced his eyes to focus on Archie, who was standing at the door. 

”It's all right, Ianto,” Archie said. With that, he closed the door, cutting off the bright light and the scanner's blaring. 

”Archie!” Ianto screamed. He grabbed for his torch, glad he hadn't let go of it when he'd been thrown back. ”Archie!” He tried to get up but his leg protested the movement again. He looked down and saw it was buried underneath some rubble. When he tried to pull it out, something sharp dug into his calf and he screamed in pain. 

His vision grew fuzzy and blurred around the edges. He felt too weak to call out anymore and instead tried to establish an empathic connection to Archie but … there was nobody else but him. 

Archie was gone. With that thought, Ianto blacked out.

***

Ariane let out a breath of relief when the tightness in her chest and stomach eased. She closed her eyes and pulled Christin closer. ”God,” she whispered. ”God.” 

Christin was breathing deeply, clearly relieved as well at the temporal disturbance finally lessening, then flickering away as if it had never been there. They would have to go to the base later and figure out what had happened, but for now, they could relax. 

Christin asked, ”Are you okay?” 

She nodded tiredly. Her mobile chirped on the bedside table and she grabbed it immediately. The text message from Michi didn't say much, but it said what she needed to hear. 

_I'm okay. Are you?_

She answered with a short _Yes_ and dropped the mobile on the mattress next to her. Out of habit, she reached out to her father mentally and stopped short when she didn't find him. ”Oh, my God,” she whispered and sat up. 

”What is it?” Christin asked. 

Ariane tried to reach her father again, but there was no answer, no flicker of his mind welcoming hers, nothing … she sobbed.

”Ariane.” Christin wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her forehead against Ariane's shoulder blade. ”What's wrong?”

”My father ...” She focussed on his timeline and saw him running down a dimly-lit corridor, saw him look at the Rift origin in disbelief, saw him warn the young man who had been trained by him over the last few weeks, saw him … she gasped and tears started to run down her cheeks. ”He's dead.”

Christin's fingers ran through her hair soothingly but it didn't help much. 

She sobbed.”My father's dead.”


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

 

Gwen blinked, feeling like she'd just woken up from a dream, even though she distinctly remembered having got into the car with Rhys, having joked with him while he drove her to work. The first thing she became aware of was Rhys staring at her pleadingly, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly. "Gwen?" he asked.

She blinked again and licked her lips. They felt dry. Her whole mouth felt like she'd tried to eat sand. "Rhys." 

"Oh, thank God," he muttered and pulled her into his arms. "Jesus, what was that?" 

"What happened?" she asked, looking around. They were standing in a small, cobbled courtyard surrounded by old houses on all sides. An alleyway was the only entrance. An elderly couple was sitting in front of one of the houses on a bench, watching them mistrustfully. Gwen had never been here before. "What are we doing here?"

"You tell me," Rhys answered, "you walked here. Just bloody got out of the car at a red light and walked here without saying a word, totally spaced out." 

Gwen cleared her throat and took a deep breath. She couldn't remember doing anything like that. "Why would I do that?"

Clearly annoyed now that he knew she was all right, Rhys answered, "No idea. How am I supposed to know?"

Gwen checked her watch. "Shit! I'm late for work." 

"That's all you have to say to that?" Rhys asked with wide eyes.

"Yes," she answered, walking towards the alleyway. "Maybe it was just some kind of side effect from the hang-over yesterday."

Rhys scoffed. "You really think so? That's crap, Gwen."

She shook her head and stopped when they left the alley, now standing on a busy street. She knew where they were. Thankfully, it wasn't very far from the Roald Dahl Plass. She could be there in five minutes if she walked fast. She checked her mobile. 

"It's been ringing," Rhys said bitterly. 

Three missed calls from Jack. Gwen cursed. Jack's one rule was to always answer the mobile. Always! She was in trouble now. She pressed an apologetic kiss to Rhys's brow. "I need to get to work." 

"Okay, what about this then?" Rhys asked, grabbing her wrist to stop her. 

"What do you mean?"

"This episode," Rhys answered, exasperated. 

Gwen rolled her eyes, looking for an answer that would get him to let her leave quickly. "I'm going to see our doctor, all right?" Rhys grumbled something under his breath but Gwen was too wound up to answer. She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, like something bad was about to happen … and there were screams in her head. "Did I say anything while I was ..."

"You muttered something," Rhys answered reluctantly, obviously still sore that she was going to ignore his concern. "Bloody creepy, too."

"What did I say?" She felt cold, the winter wind coming in from the sea cutting into her eyes.

Rhys buried his hands in the pockets of his coat and shrugged. "I didn't understand it. It didn't make sense."

"Rhys … what did I say?"

"'They're walking'," Rhys answered. "'The dead are walking.'"

***

The corridors of the UNIT headquarters in London were bustling with energy. Sarah had no problem weaving her way through to the elevator, though. Everyone made space for her to pass by at first sight, the soldiers saluting sharply, the scientists inclining their heads in greeting. It had taken Sarah a while to get used to that, to the perks her position as the head of UNIT UK brought. People jumping out of her way when she passed through was one of the more difficult things to accept. It still made her feel slightly awkward. 

She left the elevator on Sub-Level Ten. One of the research departments was located here, so more scientists in white lab coats and with tense faces passed her by than soldiers. She knew that Dr. Jamie Wheeler's lab was at the end of the long corridor and picked up her pace, her heels clicking against the concrete. A few pictures of London hung up on the walls between the countless doors tried to brighten the atmosphere, but Sarah found them failing. The harsh neon light was a poor imitation of daylight and the air-conditioning didn't make up for real fresh air. 

The good thing about underground bases was their discretion. In Sarah's eyes, that was the only good thing about them.

“General Pizano!”

Sarah stopped and turned to greet Colonel Max Houghton. He jogged up to her and saluted sharply, which she acknowledged with a salute of her own before saying, ”Colonel, I'm glad you could make it.”

Houghton tugged on the lapels of his green uniform and righted the red beret on his grey short hair. ”You reached me just before I boarded the plane.”

Sarah folded her hands on her back. ”Sorry to interrupt your leave.”

”I was told it's an emergency. My wife understands.”

Sarah nodded sharply. ”I know you took the leadership of the _Origin_ Project to see less action before retirement.” 

He smiled tightly, the lines around his dark eyes deepening. ”It didn't seem to work.”

”To be quite honest, none of us expected this to happen. We are just relieved at the moment that the Rift quakes didn't affect the Earth's surface. There are some reports about quakes in various news but nothing we won't be able to have explained away.” She started walking down the corridor again and Houghton fell into step beside her. Sarah noticed some of the scientists scurrying out of their way a little faster when they saw him. She knew it wasn't out of respect – not entirely. Max Houghton was a military man through and through, imposing, tall and decisive as well as strict and determined. A good soldier with an impressive record. But while he got along great with other soldiers and the officers serving under him were the best and admired him, Houghton didn't have much time for scientists. Sarah had doubted that she should grant his request to become the head of the Origin Project after the last one retired, but she'd had no valid reason to turn him down. She cleared her throat, knowing that the next minutes would become especially difficult. ”I'm just about to get an update from Dr. Wheeler.” She ignored the wince crossing Houghton's features. ”In fact, he informed me that he's on the line with Captain Harkness this very moment.”

”Torchwood?” Houghton asked, the wince now more pronounced.

”One of their bases is affected and they got the same warnings from all over the world we did. They have a right to be involved.” She knocked on Wheeler's door and entered.

The lab was small, but brightly lit. On the big work table taking up most of the office, several screens were displaying readings Sarah couldn't even begin to comprehend and print-outs and maps were hung up on the walls haphazardly. Empty coffee mugs, pens and notes were littering the table and shelves were packed with books. Sarah had to suppress the urge to wince in the face of the chaos that was so different from the military neatness and precision she was used to. Jamie Wheeler himself had freed up a spot on the work table and was sitting there with one of his legs folded underneath him, scribbling away on a notepad. Sarah knew that her assistant Corinne had a soft spot for Wheeler and she could see why. He was young and looked even younger with his mussed brown hair, the glasses and the ill-fitting lab coat, jumper and jeans. She'd recruited him herself just a year ago. Torchwood One had been interested in him as well. Sarah was extremely pleased UNIT had made the better offer. 

”Captain,” Wheeler said to the conference phone sitting next to him on the table, ”General Pizano and Colonel Houghton just arrived.”

”Just proceed, Doctor,” Sarah said, nodding at him. 

Wheeler glanced at Houghton nervously and hugged the clipboard in his hands to his chest, then he said, “I was just about to give an update about our Big Five. Jacksonville, Florida in the USA: Reported in and they're fine. Mito, Japan: Everything is okay. Greenfield, Massachusetts in the USA: They got quite a scare but they're fine. Padova, Italy: They reported in late and they lost one of their own to the massive Rift radiation leaking into the Rift chamber. Glasgow, Scotland: No news but the first readings of their systems are bleak. Massive radiation leakage in the Rift chamber.”

Pizano looked at the phone. ”Captain, our first response team in Glasgow has arrived and they tell me that the corridor leading down to the chamber collapsed. McIntyre could be dead for all we know.”

Harkness's voice sounded tired when he replied, _”Let's make sure. One of my agents is at Torchwood Two as well and I haven't been able to reach him, either.”_

“I will let my men know,” Houghton answered. ”The last I heard was that there's nobody to be found in the base, so I think we can assume that your man is trapped in the corridor as well. I will let you know more as soon as I can. My men will start digging any minute now.”

Sarah frowned. ”Is that safe? Considering the radiation.”

Wheeler nodded. ”The sensors in the door to the Rift chamber tell me it's closed. Archie managed to do that at least.” 

Houghton scoffed. ”I told my men to suit up first, either way. We can't be sure.”

Wheeler looked off to the side, avoiding Houghton's eyes. Sarah was aware of the history between the two men but there was nothing she could do about it. While Houghton was dismissive of scientists, he was positively resentful of Wheeler. It couldn't be helped, though. Wheeler was their leading expert on the Rift, young as he was, and Houghton was responsible for the UNIT bases that had been affected. They would have to work together. 

Houghton looked at the phone. “Don't worry, Captain, if McIntyre and your agent are still alive, we can get them out. In fact, my son is in charge of the first response team I sent, so Torchwood Two is in perfectly safe hands.” 

Wheeler looked down at his hands, his shoulders tense. ”Nobody's in safe hands,” he muttered.

”What was that?” Houghton asked angrily.

Sarah raised a hand. ”Colonel.”

 _”I want to know,”_ Harkness said. _”What did you mean, Dr. Wheeler?”_

”I said that nobody is in safe hands,” Wheeler repeated a bit louder. ”The Rift quake is over for now but we can't be sure there won't be a repeat until we know why this happened.”

Houghton crossed his arms. ”Freak accident?”

 _”I'm not as smart as Dr. Wheeler or my own tech whiz right here,”_ Harkness answered, _”but even I know that this could not have been a freak accident.”_

Wheeler nodded and looked at Sarah. ”I need to do some in-depth analyses.”

 _”Tosh told me the same,”_ Harkness replied.

”So,” Sarah said, ”should we meet up again in a few hours, then?”

Wheeler gave a nod. ”Sounds reasonable. I'll have a better overview of what happened then.”

”Fine,” Sarah said.

 _”I'll have Tosh do her thing as well. Talk to you later, General.”_ With that, Harkness hung up.

Sarah was just about to turn to leave, when Houghton said, ”One last thing we need to discuss, though.” Sarah looked at him quizzically and Houghton explained, ”Torchwood Two.”

”What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

”If McIntyre's actually dead,” Houghton answered, ”Torchwood Two will be abandoned. Who will take over?” 

Sarah raised her eyebrows. ”That's a question for another day, don't you think? Let's establish whether McIntyre is actually dead first. Now, if you'll excuse me, the PM is asking for a report.”

***

Michi braked sharply and cut the engine of his motorbike, sitting back to pull the helmet off and brush a hand through his short hair. The forecourt of the main station was busy as always, people hurrying inside with suitcases to catch their trains; smartly dressed men and women emerging to start their day in one of the high towers making up the iconic Skyline of Frankfurt. The streets leading past were packed; cars honking and people crossing without looking whether the lights were green, trams ringing their high-pitched bells to clear the tracks, teenagers and children hurrying towards school, homeless men and women sitting on the ground asking for money, some punks sharing a bottle of beer and two Turkish mothers pushing their prams towards the underground station. 

The neighbourhood around the main station was multi-cultural and multi-layered – jewellers selling their high-end rings and necklaces right next to shabby grocery shops, expensive restaurants sharing houses with hotels that rented rooms by the hour. 

Michi didn't pay the people any more mind than he usually did, climbing off his motorbike and pulling the strap of his messenger bag tight across his chest. His leather jacket hadn't managed to keep the biting February air out completely while he'd crossed the river a few minutes ago and he felt chilled. With his helmet in hand, he walked around the main building that was a weird clash between Renaissance and shabby, housing the many shops and fast food joints and frustrated passengers waiting for their trains. Michi pulled the key out of his jeans pocket when he got close to the tracks where the trains left the station. There, he ducked into a niche and unlocked an inconspicuous metal door, pushing it open. He righted the sign reading _Zutritt Verboten_ taped to its outside, even though he knew that nobody really cared about the door anymore. It closed with a clang behind him. 

A flip of the light switch revealed the iron winding stairs leading deep down into the ground. His destination lay deeper than the catacombs of the station, even deeper than the vast underground system. Michi took two steps at a time, his boots loud in the silence, moving with practised speed. Still, it took him almost ten minutes to reach the ground. 

The stairs ended in a small room that would have been a dead end, if not for the massive door in one corner. The couch pushed to a wall of the room was old and worn, the crate with water bottles next to it dusty. It had been a while since anybody had spent more than a few minutes here. 

Michi crossed the room with three strides and put his hand against the metal of the door. With a hiss, he pulled it back immediately. He'd burned himself. He should have known better. The time disturbance had been too massive to just have been a hiccup. He pushed open the flap concealing a small window in the door and looked inside. The Rift origin tucked away in its tiny room looked normal, pulsing away, emitting bright light, calm as usual. Michi hadn't really needed that additional proof that the time disturbance was over. As soon as the nausea had faded and he'd been able to draw normal breaths again, he'd known. Nevertheless, it was good to get visible proof.

He was just about to go back upstairs to text Ariane that everything was all right down here when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He pressed as close to the door as he felt was possible without burning himself again and could just about make out a red light on one of the walls blinking steadily. 

His breath caught.

The emergency beacon. 

The emergency beacon that would alert Archie that the radiation in the chamber was too high. Archie, who was dead. And with Archie dead, they had no way of knowing who was getting the alarm. 

Michi would have disregarded the danger of residual radiation and stepped inside the room to deactivate the beacon, but he knew that it was too late. The time disturbance had been an hour ago … by now, surely someone had noticed it.

Michi cursed. Nobody was supposed to know about this base. Or about the others placed all over the world. Or about them: Michi and Ariane, Christin and the others. Archie had promised that nothing would ever happen to them. 

Michi dreaded the thought that this could quite possibly be the last promise Archie would ever break.

***

Jack brushed a hand through his hair as he looked at the havoc the quake had wrecked on the base. He sighed deeply. He guessed they had got off lightly, really. Only a few smashed monitors and a bit of shattered ceramic and porcelain in the kitchen niche … nothing too dramatic. Still … the dialling tone seemed loud in his ear, monotonous, bearing bad news. 

The call went to the mailbox. Jack redialled.

Tosh looked up from her monitors to send him a comforting smile. "I'm sure Ianto's fine."

Jack didn't answer. Neither Ianto nor Archie had picked up their mobiles; only UNIT had answered the landline in Glasgow. He'd talked to Colonel Houghton's son – Captain Alex Houghton – but hadn't found their talk to be overly comforting. Clearly, UNIT was doing what they could to dig through to the Rift origin chamber but it was just as obvious that nobody expected Ianto or Archie to still be alive. 

Owen cursed, picking up his broken computer monitor while the one that had survived was showing the news. Nothing about an earthquake on any of the channels. The world had been shook to its core – unbeknownst to most of its population. Only very deep basements far underneath the surface bore the scars of the Rift quakes. UNIT was taking care of the cover story for the very few civilian buildings across the world that had been affected. 

Jack was worrying. "Answer the phone. Always answer your phone," he muttered.

"I can't reach Gwen, either," Tosh said. 

Jack stared at her while he listened to Ianto not answering. "Explain it to me. How could this have happened?"

She shook her head. "It's impossible, Jack. Earth is spanned by five Rifts, all of them independent from one another. That one Rift experiences a quake is normal. It can happen. But all five of them?" She shook her head. 

The alarm blaring startled all of them and for just a moment, Jack was worried that it would start anew, but then the cogwheel door rolled to the side and Gwen entered. She looked pale and shaken and hurried towards him as soon as she saw him, not paying any mind to the state of the room. "Jack!"

He glared at her. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

When she reached him, he felt immediately sorry for snapping at her. Her green eyes had a slightly feverish look to them and she was trembling. He reached out a hand she took it, squeezing in reassurance and accepting the silent apology. "Something really weird happened."

He hung up. "We know. Rift quakes."

She shook her head and then tucked her dark long hair behind her ears. "No, nothing like quakes. I just … I didn't hear your calls, Jack. Rhys said I zoned out, like ... I don't know. I was in the car with him and then it was as if I had blinked and I … was standing in front of that house I've never seen before. And Rhys said that I said weird stuff."

Jack frowned, trying to make sense of what she'd said … and a suspicion reared its head. "Which house?"

"I'll look it up for you on a map," Gwen said, going to her computer. He nodded and dialled Ianto's number again, raising the mobile to his ear. Gwen paused, eyeing the damage to the ceiling and the broken tiles on the floor. "How bad was it?"

Tosh shrugged. "All right."

Owen added, "Not too bad, compared to some other places."

Gwen frowned. "What do you mean?"

Tosh stepped closer. "We haven't heard from Glasgow. UNIT facilities going deeper underground than this base were practically smashed. They lost people."

Gwen bit her lip. 

Owen shrugged and dropped into his chair, depositing shards of his mug into the bin. "Plus, extreme radiation was detected in all facilities of the _Origin_ Project."

"The _Origin_ Project?" Gwen asked.

"The project that monitors all the Rift openings on Earth." He shrugged. “Well, all those we know about.”

"This is the first time I'm hearing about it," Gwen said. "I mean, I think you mentioned before that there's more than one Rift but … how many are there?"

Tosh leaned back in her chair. "Five."

Gwen's eyes widened. "Five? And all of them experienced quakes?"

"Yes. Impossible but that's what happened." With that, she focussed on her monitors again, tapping orders into the computer.

Gwen swallowed and looked at Jack questioningly. "And Ianto and Archie ... Torchwood Two monitors one of those … origins? Could they be …"

Jack turned away.

"Don't," he heard Tosh say. 

He focussed on the tiled wall a few steps away, on the sound of the water trickling down the tower. Anything other than the thought of Ianto and Archie quite possibly being dead. He growled in frustration when Ianto's mailbox picked up yet again, but was interrupted by a loud beeping … not coming from Tosh's computer or from their alarm system, but from his office.

"What's that?" Owen asked. "Jack?"

“I don't know,” he answered, tucking the mobile into his trousers and hurrying across the main Hub and into his office. Some of the knick-knacks he kept on his desk had fallen off, but his computer – rarely used and shoved into a corner – was still there and functional. It was also the origin of the beeping. A window had opened, a numeric code blinking on a black backdrop. Jack paused, surprised, and then rounded his desk to drop into his chair and get closer to the screen. ”It's an emergency beacon.”

”Ianto's?” Gwen asked immediately.

”No.” Jack hit enter. A satellite image loaded. ”I know the code of all our beacons,” he explained. He did, because he sometimes sat in his office at night and when the silence got too stifling and the loneliness too bad, he spent hours just locating and staring at the beacons of his team, checking that they were home safe. Each number was burned into his memory. However, they didn't need to know that. He frowned. ”This one's new.”

Owen crossed his arms. ”Where is it right now?”

They all crowded closer around Jack, looking at the screen together.

”Germany,” he answered. ”It's calling us to Germany.”


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

 

“Tosh,” Jack said. 

She nodded and hurried out of his office, throwing a smile over her shoulder. ”I'm tracing the serial number.” 

Gwen somehow felt like she was adding this for her and Owen's benefit, not Jack's. Gwen often noticed that Tosh and Jack had an almost non-verbal communication, knowing instinctively what the other needed. They were closer than it appeared at first glance. Then again, Jack had a special connection to all of them and in very different ways. 

He turned his chair around and looked up at Gwen. "Back to you. Where did it happen?"

Gwen crossed her arms. "Shouldn't we take care of the beacon first?" she asked. "That seems more urgent."

Jack got up and walked towards a bookshelf, getting a rolled-up map from its top. When he spread it out on the floor, dust swirled through the air, making Gwen's nose tickle. She coughed, but settled down to kneel next to Jack, studying the map. It was difficult in the low lights of Jack's office. He seemed to prefer the gentle lamps to the harsh neon bulbs used all throughout the main Hub, though, keeping his office a working place that was also cosy in a very disorganised and cluttered way. Maybe because he didn't have a home, lived in the base and slept right underneath this room. 

Jack brushed his hand over the map, wiping away dirt and more dust. "This might be connected. I have an idea what happened."

Owen sat next to them, frowning at the map. ”This isn't up to date,” he muttered. 

”It doesn't need to be if I'm right.” 

Owen brushed his thumb over one corner of the paper, scratching away old spider webs to reveal the date of publication. ”Fuck, Jack. This is ancient.”

”1932,” Jack replied, a fond smile on his lips. ”I bought it when I was looking for a house back then. Found something pretty neat. It's worth a fortune now.”

”The joys of immortality,” Owen muttered. “Why don't you live there, then?”

Gwen only glanced at Jack out of the corner of her eyes but she saw his smile fade. ”I bought it for me and Matthew. He went missing before he even saw it.”

Owen didn't say anything to that. Gwen just quickly squeezed Jack's fingers to acknowledge his grief for one of the many people he'd loved and lost during his long life before trying to focus to find the place where she'd come back to her senses today. Tracing her way back from the bay with her forefinger, she finally stopped, tapping the little courtyard. "There." 

Jack frowned and closed his eyes. "Just as I thought … it's a hot spot," he said. "A Rift hot spot. The Rift opened wide in that exact spot a long time ago and the quakes today must have disturbed it. It's like a scar that still smarts when the weather gets bad. Some people feel it stinging.” He turned his head to look at her. ”You're one of them."

Gwen swallowed and sat back, pulling her knees to her chest. She felt cold. "But why was I affected that way?”

"Good question," Jack answered. ”One thing's for sure, there must be a connection.” His mobile rang and he got up to grab it from his desk and picked up after glancing at the display. "Any news?"

Gwen watched him hunch his shoulders and brush a hand through his hair.

Under his breath, Owen muttered, "Bad news." 

Gwen glanced at him and swallowed, biting her thumb nail nervously.

"Well, get down there now," he said and hung up.

”Jack?” Gwen asked. ”Is it about Torchwood Two?”

He just stood there for a moment, staring at the floor, then he nodded sharply and left his office. ”Tosh!” he called. ”Anything yet?”

With a sigh, Owen got to his feet. "Yeah, it's bad." He followed Jack and Gwen quickly did as well, joining them at Tosh's desk in the main Hub. 

She was still tapping away, data streaming over her screens and documents opening and closing fast. ”I identified the serial number of the beacon, but I'm still tracing. This goes pretty deep, Jack. Whoever placed this beacon didn't want anyone to know that it's there.”

Owen frowned and crossed his arms. ”Why place it then? Why alarm us now?” 

Tosh paused for a moment, thrown, but Jack had an answer. ”It's been forwarded.” He took a deep breath and Gwen thought that he looked more tired and pained again. ”Tosh, call up the map with all the epicentres again.” The map appeared on one of her screens. Jack tapped his finger against the blinking dot in Germany. ”And that's exactly where the beacon's signal comes from, right?”

She nodded. ”Yes.” 

Jack closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped. 

”What is it?” Gwen asked, looking at Owen quizzically, but he just shrugged, just as clueless. So Gwen turned to Jack again, wondering if, once again, they'd found out about one of his deeper secrets once again only by necessity. ”Jack?” 

He sighed. ”In the 50s, Torchwood technology and research had developed far enough to realize that all the different strange phenomenons on Earth believed to have been caused by one single Rift were in fact caused by several different Rifts. It was decided that they should be mapped as much as possible to learn about their positions and points of origins. Project Origin was founded and several scientists from Torchwood and UNIT worked on it together. It was the first big cooperation between both organisations.” He straightened. “And it was led by Archie.”

”Archie?” Owen echoed in disbelief. ”McIntyre? Drunk, weird Archie?”

Jack smiled sadly. ”Underestimated Archie McIntyre, who was in fact the first one to ever find a Rift origin – beneath the Torchwood Two archives. He became kind of an expert on the topic after that and was the only one who knew how to trace Rifts back to their origins. He still is the only authority in that regard. Nobody knows how it's done.” 

Gwen was awed. When Jack said that nobody knew how something was done, then it meant more as if she would say it. He came from the future, had travelled through time and space, lived for over a century … if he didn't know, but Archie did …

Tosh cleared her throat. ”And he found other origins?” 

Jack nodded. ”He and his team found four more origins and reported them in between 1953 and 1956. Bases were built to keep an eye on them and to do research, which confirmed that there are five Rifts spanning Earth. The five _Origin_ bases are still in full working order, Torchwood Two being one of them, the others being under UNIT control.”

Gwen frowned. ”But we've got _ten_ epicentres.”

Tosh nodded. ”A start and an end point for every Rift,” she explained, taking off her glasses to chew on one of the arms. 

Owen raised his eyebrows. ”So what? Archie only found five in the 50s. We now know where the rest are.”

Jack chuckled, but it sounded bitter. ”Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about Archie only finding five.” He nodded at the satellite image. ”There's a Torchwood Two beacon in Germany, positioned exactly over one of the epicentres we didn't know about until now.”

Tosh leaned forward when her computer gave a low beep. ”Got it,” she murmured, pulling up a document on one of the screens. She leaned back in her chair. ”It's a Torchwood Two beacon. It was issued to them 1994 and reported to be still in the archives last year.”

”But that's not where it is,” Jack said. ”It hasn't been there for a very long time. Tosh, ping the other beacons issued to Torchwood Two.”

It only took a few keystrokes and four more signals emerged, positioned over the four remaining epicentres. Gwen swallowed. ”What does that tell us?”

”It tells us that Archie is keeping a pretty huge secret.” Jack's blue eyes focussed on her. ”The question is: Why?”

***

The boardroom had remained untouched by the quakes. Mostly. A cup had fallen off the table and the flatscreen on the wall was a bit crooked but other than that, everything looked like it always had. 

Jack couldn't sit in one of the chairs like he usually did, though. He was full of restless energy. The quakes, Archie and Ianto going missing, the discovery of Archie's little side project … all that had left him more rattled than he wanted to admit and when he was rattled, he couldn't sit still. He needed to do something. At the moment, though, keeping a clear head and using every resource they had was more important. And Tosh's detailed dossier on Dr. Jamie Wheeler told him that he was a good resource indeed. 

He didn't look like a scientist at first glance, more like a student. He was attractive, though, Jack noted absent-mindedly, with his short dark hair a bit ruffled and his dark eyes sparkling with enthusiasm over the puzzle the quakes had offered them. They'd foregone the telephone conference, going for a video link instead. They'd gathered around the boardroom table with Wheeler looking at them from the flatscreen. What Jack could see of Wheeler's office was disorganized, but he knew better than to judge a person's intelligence or competence by their neatness.

Wheeler pushed his glasses back up his nose. _”The Big Five,”_ he said. _”That's what I call them. The Rifts and our bases there. And they're definitely still five. The new epicentres we found are the perfect match for the ones we already knew about. We've got a start and end point for every Rift now.”_

Owen, who was sitting next to Gwen nursing a coffee, asked, ”What areas are we talking about?”

 _”Are you a fan of conspiracy theories?”_ Wheeler asked.

Owen chuckled. ”Mate, I work for a conspiracy theory.”

Gwen stifled a giggle and even Jack couldn't suppress a small smile at the words. Hearing Owen make a joke calmed him. It had been too long. Maybe he really was getting better, finally.

 _”You'll love this then,”_ Wheeler replied. _”Five Rifts spanning five of the strangest areas on Earth: The Bermuda Triangle, Western Europe, the Mariana Trench, the Bridgewater Triangle and – my personal favourite – Poveglia.”_

Tosh frowned quizzically. ”Poveglia?” 

_”Ghost island in Italy,”_ Wheeler answered. _”Haunted like crazy.”_

Owen looked doubtful. ”Western Europe?”

Wheeler shrugged. _”Myths, ghosts, haunted spots.”_

”The Mariana Trench.”

 _”Aliens live down there,”_ Wheeler said.

”You mean fish?” Owen asked, doubtful.

 _”You say 'fish', I say 'alien',”_ Wheeler answered. _”UNIT did research on those creatures. Proper research. Believe me … aliens.”_

Owen gave a grudging nod. ”And the Bridgewater Triangle?”

 _”Paranormal reports, it's supposed to be cursed by Indians, too,”_ Wheeler answered. _”Do I have to explain the Bermuda Triangle to you as well?”_

Owen just shrugged. 

Jack thought that they should get back to the matter at hand. "Any progress on the reason for these quakes?"

Wheeler's gaze settled on him. _"None at all. I mean, yeah, I know what could have caused it, but I don't know why."_

Jack nodded and hooked his fingers around his braces, settling his hands on his hips. "Let's hear your theory."

Wheeler looked at him for a long moment in silence, as if he hadn't quite heard him right, then he started to leaf through a small notebook. _"Timelines rubbing together, causing sparks so to say."_ He didn't look at the screen while he said it, even though Jack doubted that he needed to consult his notes to find these words. Jack had lived long enough and was too experienced a conman not to know how to read body language – and Wheeler was clearly very nervous, especially when talking to him.

Owen muttered, "Quite some sparks."

Tosh looked up from her laptop. "That's an easy enough theory if it would only apply to one Rift. Timelines rubbing together happens occasionally, but it doesn't have this kind of consequences."

Wheeler sighed. _"I know. Something like this doesn't just ... happen."_ He looked horrified at the very notion and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. _“However, I don't have a full set of data. I can only work with what our Big Five sent back to us and that is admittedly not overly much. The readings they make only refer to the Rifts they're sitting on and the data is fading just as fast as the radiation. Our instruments aren't fine-tuned enough to pick up on nuances. All data sets look the same. I'm convinced that there must be differences, though.”_

Jack looked at Tosh questioningly, wondering if she thought the same. She tucked a few strands of dark hair behind her ears and gave a nod. ”Our Rift Manipulator is fine-tuned enough.”

Wheeler's eyebrows arched. _”How is that possible?”_

Jack interrupted Tosh before she could answer. ”Advanced technology,” he said shortly, unwilling to bring Torchwood Four up in a conversation with UNIT. It was bad enough that the rogue Torchwood branch had reappeared from its exile. UNIT didn't need to be reminded of them.

 _”I would love to see that data set,”_ Wheeler replied.

Tosh sighed, her brown eye flickering between her laptop and Wheeler's face on the screen on the wall. ”I can't transfer the data. It's too massive.”

Wheeler looked disappointed and shrugged. 

”I'll see what I can do, though,” Tosh continued, clearly trying to make up for what she probably thought were words said too dismissively.

Jack crossed his arms. ”Thank you, Dr. Wheeler,” he said firmly. ”Talk to you again soon.”

Wheeler nodded and Tosh ended the transmission with a keystroke on her laptop.

It was quiet for a moment, then Gwen asked, ”Why didn't you tell him about the beacons?”

”Because it's Torchwood technology,” Jack answered, ”and because Archie kept it a secret. He must have a reason. Until I can ask him what it is, I won't tell them a thing.”

Tosh gave a tired sigh. ”Well, what I can tell you is that the German beacon's signal was forwarded from Torchwood Two. Quite possibly because nobody there reacted to the alarm.”

”So Archie wanted someone to receive it, no matter what,” Jack said slowly, scrubbing a hand through his short hair. ”Archie's systems forwarded it to me automatically when he didn't react. He must have set it up that way.”

Owen snorted. ”I thought Archie is already unable to cope with sending an e-mail.” 

Jack looked at him gravely. ”Clearly a lie.” 

A façade. 

Erected by one of the closest friends he'd ever had. Jack couldn't even begin to describe how much it hurt that Archie hadn't felt he could tell him about this … whatever _this_ was. He turned away to look through the windows down into the main Hub, his eyes lingering on the way the water trickled down the tower to gather in a little pool in the centre of the room. ”Or at least that's what I always thought. What everyone was supposed to think.” 

It was silent for a long moment. 

Once again, it was Gwen who spoke first. ”What are we going to do then?”

Owen's reply sounded disinterested. ”What do you mean?”

”Aren't we going to help?”

”Why would we?”

Gwen's irritation about Owen's flippancy was easy to hear. ”It's an emergency beacon. Someone might need our help. Someone who trusted Archie to help them.”

Tosh said, ”She's right.”

Owen snorted. ”We don't even know who has the beacon. Or if anyone has it. For all we know, it could be lying on the floor near the origin and only have reacted to the radiation.”

”Jack,” Gwen said, ”what do we do?”

Jack closed his eyes. The decision was easy, had already been made, really, but he needed to make it look like it wasn't a snap decision or founded on feelings. He needed to get a grip and be the leader. Make sure that he was doing the right thing for the right reasons. Finally, he turned back around to them, meeting their waiting gazes. "What we are supposed to do: We help," he answered. "It's our beacon, our responsibility." He nodded at Gwen. ”We're going to have to split up.”


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

 

“What are we going to do?” Gwen asked, following Jack down the winding stairs from the upper level to the ground floor of the main Hub. Owen stayed close on her heels, leaving Tosh to her laptop at the boardroom table. Jack was walking fast, with determination, his boots heavy on the metal stairs and the tiled floor. Gwen and Owen followed him across the walkway past the Rift Manipulator and towards his office.

Jack stopped just short of it, turning around to them and settling his hands on his hips. ”The two of you are going to Germany. Tosh and I will take on Glasgow.”

Owen frowned. ”Is that a good idea? You should go to Germany, Jack, you're the leader.”

Jack crossed his arms, his chin jutting out stubbornly. ”Gwen's my Second in Command. There's no discussion about this.”

Owen snorted. ”Your judgement is impaired!”

Jack's blue eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to them, his shoulders straight and his expression thunderous. Owen bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself not to take a step back, even when Gwen did. Jack was a kind and calm man most of the time, but he could be ruthless and cruel. They all knew that. Owen swallowed but he felt a spark of pride upon standing his ground, even though Jack was towering over him in every sense of the word, his voice dangerously calm. ”You doubt my judgement?”

Owen's face hardened. ”When it's led by your cock, yes, I do. Give me a valid reason why you should go to Glasgow instead of me. I'm a trained doctor and they might need medical assistance.”

”Which UNIT has on site as well,” Jack replied.

”Then let Gwen go to Glasgow … as your Second in Command.”

”I'm going.”

Owen scoffed. ”Germany is new. It's important that someone with competence leads us there.”

Gwen muttered, ”Ta, Owen.”

”No insult intended,” he replied, turning back to Jack. ”Fact is, that you only want to go to Glasgow because Ianto's there and you're shagging him.”

Jack glared at him and for a moment, only the trickling of water and the beeping of machines was heard in the cavernous room. 

Gwen cleared her throat and hesitantly said, ”Owen's got a point.” 

That earned her a glare from Jack. ”You need a reason?” he asked. ”A professional reason?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then he explained, ”Well, how about the fact that Archie lied to me – to Torchwood and UNIT – about something? How about the fact that he will most likely talk to me about it, not to UNIT or Gwen? How about the fact that I'm your boss and you do as I tell you?”

Alarms started shrieking and the boardroom door slammed open. ”Brace yourselves!” Tosh called, clinging to the railing. The ground started quaking. Dirt and dust rained from the ceiling and the cracks in the tiles and brickwork of the walls caused by the first quake widened slightly. Tosh ducked back into the boardroom and Jack quickly stepped into his office, Gwen and Owen on his heels. They stopped under the door but the quake wasn't as bad as the first one. The room didn't tilt or shake, it merely quivered. 

Owen deemed it safe enough to continue the argument. He glared at Jack and pointed a finger at him. ”This is screwed up.”

”My decision is final,” Jack replied firmly. 

Gwen said, ”Wrong.” 

Jack glared at her. ”I said, it's final.”

She closed her eyes. ”Owen's wrong.” 

He bristled, snapping, ”Changed your mind, then? Because just a minute ago, that sounded quite different.”

A pained expression flickered over her face. ”I'm wrong.”

She opened her eyes again and whatever scathing remark Owen had intended to make was forgotten. He took a startled step back. ”Jesus!” 

Gwen's pupils were blown. Her skin was white and cold sweat was starting to gather on her face.

Jack grabbed her shoulders, a worried expression replacing his anger. ”Gwen?” 

She collapsed and he held onto her, softening the fall and letting her rest against his chest. Owen knelt next to them, taking her wrist and pressing his fingers against the pule point. A new thought came to him and he looked up at Jack. ”Did we consider Torchwood Four? Maybe they're responsible for this mess.” 

Softly, Gwen answered, ”It's not the rogue ones. It's not the demons.” She sobbed and screwed her eyes shut. Jack made a calming noise and brushed her hair out of her clammy forehead.

”What the hell is going on?” Owen asked. 

Jack didn't answer. The look on his face was fierce, though, thoughtful and concentrated. 

Owen knew that look. He assumed that Jack had some idea what was happening to Gwen, but wasn't ready to share his theory for whatever reason. He tended to keep things to himself unless he deemed it necessary to share. It wasn't the first time Owen was annoyed about that fact, but most of the time, they didn't have another choice in the matter. However, Gwen's pulse was racing, her breaths coming in sharp bursts … Owen wasn't willing to wait for Jack to make up his mind this time. ”Jack, what's going on?”

He ignored him, instead cradling Gwen closer to his chest when she gasped for air. ”It's ...” She grabbed Jack's braces, wrapping them around her fingers until he was forced to lean over her, wincing at the way the material cut into his shoulders. ”Oh, the drums! They're too loud!” 

Jack cupped her face in one hand. ”Germany. Is it Germany?”

Owen swallowed. ”Jack, what the-”

”Shut up!” Jack snapped, not even looking at him. ”Gwen, is it Germany?”

She sobbed, tears running over her cheeks. ”They're dying. The children are dying ...” 

”What is it? The origin?” Jack asked. ”Tell me!”

”I can't see,” she whispered. ”Blurry edges …” She blinked and her expression softened, her green eyes focussing first on Jack and then on Owen, staring at them as if she'd never seen them before. ”Where am I?”

”Who am I talking to?” Jack asked gently. The quake ceased, the tremors dying away. Owen stared at Jack, who was still cupping Gwen's face, smiling at her. ”Who are you?”

She whimpered. ”I'm trapped.”

”It's all right now. You're here with me. What's your name?”

She took a deep breath. ”I hardly remember.”

”Try.” 

”Gwyneth,” she breathed.

Jack's smile widened. ”Hi, Gwyneth,” he said. ”You're safe here. Just tell us what you know, what you see.” 

She blinked furiously and pulled a face, one hand coming up to rub her forehead. ”Jack?” 

He sighed. ”Gwen?” 

”Yeah.” 

Tosh's heels made their way down the stairs. Owen took Gwen's pulse again and was relieved to find that it had calmed considerably. When Tosh reached them, she crouched next to Owen. ”What happened?”

Jack cleared his throat. ”Well, Gwen, don't take this the wrong way, but … you were possessed.”

She frowned. ”Possessed?” 

Jack nodded gravely. ”By a ghost.” 

Gwen raised an eyebrow, sitting up a bit. ”So what? I need an exorcism now? Whenever I think this job can't get any crazier ...” 

Jack chuckled. ”Exorcism,” he repeated and nodded. ”That wouldn't help but … the church kind of had a point there.”

***

“You must have a connection to her,” Jack said, tapping away on the keyboard in his office. “As soon as you showed me the house you woke up at this morning, I knew that it had something to do with her. She lived there in the 1860s. She died there as well, at only 19 years of age.”

Gwen was leaning against the back of his chair, sipping a glass of water Owen had forced on her. ”So, what? Every possession that we know of was caused by a Rift?”

She heard Owen and Tosh's murmured conversation in the main Hub and looked at them through the half-open blinds of Jack's office. Owen was standing next to Tosh at her desk, while she was working on the computer. He seemed tense and kept throwing glances at Jack's office. Gwen couldn't understand what he was saying but she was sure that it was about Jack's decision concerning Glasgow and Germany.

”What did you think possessions were caused by? Actual demons?” Jack asked and chuckled at the idea. He often did that when he thought they were being especially obtuse. 

Sometimes, Gwen felt like a child when talking to him. She was almost embarrassed by saying, ”I thought they were either frauds or church was trying to make a point.”

”Some of them were frauds. And church overreacted. But the original ones – the ones that started it off – they were very real. And a few since then have been real. If you have a special connection to either the Rift or someone who got trapped in it, they can come back and possess you when a Rift opens wide enough. It's not harmful. Most of the time, it's not even noticed.”

Gwen bit her lip. ”So, every time there's Rift activity-”

”No, the Rift must be open quite wide for a possession to happen,” Jack answered. ”Don't worry.” He hit enter and grinned triumphantly. ”Meet Gwyneth.”

Gwen looked at the faded black and white picture of a man and a woman standing in front of a house. The man wore an old-fashioned suit, the woman a maid's uniform right out of a Jane Austen movie. She read the line beneath. ”1865. A funeral home?”

”Recognize the house?”

Gwen's eyes widened. ”That's the one I walked to this morning.”

”Gwyneth trying to find her way home in your body,” Jack said with a nod.

Gwen shuddered at the thought. ”How are we connected? Is it because I work here?”

Jack leaned back in his chair and turned around to face her. ”No, a direct connection to the Rift is only forged in very rare cases. Here, it's way easier.” He zoomed in on the woman. 

Gwen took a step back, startled by what appeared to be her own face looking back at her. ”Oh, my God.” 

”The similarities are scary,” Jack said with a smile.

Gwen leaned closer to the screen. ”How did you pull this up so quickly?”

”Well, this funeral home went boom in 1869. Torchwood was on the scene, circumstances were suspicious. They read high Rift energy patterns. Everyone in that house died that night, but Gwyneth's body was never recovered.” 

”How did Torchwood know she died, then?”

”There was evidence of a negative Rift spike taking someone away. She must be trapped within.”

”And I'm her descendent?”

”No.” He pulled up several files and the computer created a family tree. “Gwyneth never had children. Her blood line died with her.” He looked up at Gwen. ”I can't explain it, even though I think I know someone who could have an answer.”

”Who?” 

”Rumour has it the Doctor was involved in what happened that night,” Jack answered. 

“The Doctor,” Gwen repeated, the name ringing several bells. She didn't know a lot about him; just that he was alien and travelled through space and time, and that Jack had travelled with him and had been looking for him ever since he'd landed in Cardiff roughly a century ago, because the Doctor might be the only one who could explain his immortality to him. She often wondered what he was like. The name was mentioned in many Torchwood files. His regular appearances on Earth were well-recorded. 

Usually, though, trouble followed right behind him.

Owen appeared in the door to Jack's office, his expression dark. ”So we're about to buy two plane tickets. Who is going to go?”

”Whoever goes better hurry,” Tosh added, appearing beside him. ”The emergency beacon from Germany just stopped transmitting.”

***

“That won't change anything,” Michi said, setting down the pizza boxes on Ariane and Christin's coffee table. ”They received the signal ages ago.”

Ariane added napkins and plates. ”I feel more comfortable with the emergency beacon switched off.” She sat down next to Christin and Michi settled into the comfortable armchair facing the panorama window of the flat. Ariane and Christin both earned rather a lot of money working in the financial sector and their flat reflected that. It was always immaculate and the furniture expensive, while still being comfortable and homey. They spent a lot of time here, just the three of them. It was more comfortable than in Michi's small one-bedroom flat. He wasn't in need of money, exactly, but his job as a PA paid much less. 

Christin curled up on the couch. ”The radiation has long since dissipated anyway. It was perfectly safe to enter the chamber.”

Michi opened one of the boxes. ”That's not the point.”

Ariane pulled her long blonde hair back to form an untidy knot of curls. She was constantly annoyed at her hair, but seemed unwilling to cut it shorter. ”I know what the point is,” she replied, ”but we don't know whether we can trust them.”

”I'm trying to tell you that we can.”

”You _want_ that,” Ariane corrected him. ”You want to be able to trust them.”

”I saw it,” Michi replied with a frown. ”I looked at their timelines. I know exactly who they are.”

Christin sighed and her blue eyes focussed on him. ”Michi,” she said gently, ”we all know that what you read in the timelines of people you've never met personally isn't always correct.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but Ariane interrupted him. ”No, there is no exception. We can't trust them.” 

He glared at her. ”Archie did.”

”Archie kept us a secret. He can't have trusted them that much.”

”But they're coming. What are we going to do about that?”

”Nothing,” Ariane answered and her dark eyes hardened. ”For our sake and the sake of our brothers and sisters all over the world. We have a rule, Michi. Don't break it.” She kissed his forehead. ”I know you think you know them because you looked at their lives, but you have to keep in mind that reading their timelines is not the same as knowing them.”

Christin nodded. ”We're not human. They wouldn't understand.”

Michi bit back his _'I think they would'_ , instead taking a slice of pizza out of the box. The timelines of the Torchwood Three members remained at the forefront of his mind, though, their every move under his watch.

***

Ianto woke to the sound of rubble falling, scattering, and he jerked, hissing in a breath when his leg protested the sudden move. 

He groaned and opened his eyes slowly, finding himself still lying on the hard ground of the collapsed corridor lit only by his flickering torch. He forced himself to swallow. His throat felt dry and raw. He'd been screaming for help for quite some time before he'd last lost consciousness; the steady thrum of something coming closer had been the only thing he'd heard in a while, though. Now, he could hear voices, too: Sharp commands, brisk explanations, muffled chatter. 

People were close and getting closer, their voices leaking through the crevices of the rubble separating him from the way up. 

Ianto licked his lips and clutched his torch, shining towards the rubble. He raised his hand and slammed the torch onto the rocky ground … again, again, again … until the noise on the other side ceased with someone calling, ”Stop it! Stop! Listen!” 

He dropped the torch and it started to roll away. Ianto tried to grab it again, stretching, forgetting about his leg still being trapped, and the pain shooting up to his chest was almost unbearable for a moment. Someone cried out, several voices – none of them his own. 

Then, panting, someone said, ”We definitely have someone still alive down here. Empath. Send Ronson.” The same voice sounded suddenly a bit closer, calling through a gap in the rubble blocking the corridor. ”This is UNIT, my name's Captain Alex Houghton. Who is there?”

Ianto swallowed, coughing painfully. He couldn't get a word out, his throat feeling too tight and raw. 

”No worries,” Houghton said. ”We'll have you out of there in no time.”

Ianto closed his eyes, resting his head on his arm. He wondered why he felt so weak and woozy, disconnected and clumsy. Blood loss, possibly. And a concussion. Mainly blood loss. His leg …

”Ianto.”

He jerked awake.

”Hey, shh, it's okay.” A woman was lying on her belly next to him, talking to him, smiling at him. She was in her mid-thirties, maybe, wrinkles already beginning to show around her brown, reassuring eyes. Ianto wondered where she'd come from, just to see that most of the rubble in the corridor had been cleared away, and two other shadows were moving about behind her. Ianto couldn't quite see them. Floodlights had been put up and his eyes were tearing up. He must have been unconscious for a while. The woman continued smiling and one of her hands brushed his hair back. ”You're fine,” she said. ”Just a bit confused. Just a bit weak.” 

One of the shadows behind her spoke softly. ”McIntyre's in the chamber. Dead.”

There was the crackle of a radio, a barely audible response.

The other shadow gruffly ordered, ”Hurry up, Ronson.”

”Give me a minute,” the woman answered and focussed on Ianto again. ”I'm Ashlyn and I need you to listen to me, Ianto.” 

Ianto felt tired and closed his eyes. It didn't matter how they got him out. He just wanted to sleep and wake up when it was over.

”No, no, no, none of that,” Ashlyn said. ”I need you conscious.” She smiled when he opened his eyes again, her fingers still combing through his hair. ”We will get you out of here, but we need to take precautions, yeah? You're hurt right now and your mental abilities are messed up. Some of the team feel the pain in your leg and they developed a pretty mean headache from your concussion.”

Ianto's eyes widened. ”I'm projecting?” he asked and his voice sounded brittle. Talking hurt but he needed to know. He'd killed by accident with his empathy before, he never wanted that to happen again. 

Ashlyn nodded, her helmet scraping against the rock she was lying on. ”Yeah, pretty strongly. You will need a bit of help and I can do that but for that, I need to find your frequency, so to say. So I need you to project at me, just me, nobody else.”

Ianto tried to understand, then just tried to comply, but his thoughts were just as scattered as his ability and he gasped when he heard someone close-by groan in pain.

”Ianto,” Ashlyn said firmly. ”Project at me, just me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. ”I don't want to hurt you.”

”I don't mind the pain, alright? It's only going to last for a minute.”

“Sedate me.”

”Not with your concussion.”

”Just get me out, then. I can control myself.”

”You're too badly hurt, Ianto. Believe me, I've got experience in this kind of thing. I extract empaths out of tricky situations all the time.” She winked at him. ”It's my job. Now, project at me.”

Ianto didn't have the energy to fight, especially when one of the men behind Ashlyn moaned and sank to his knees, clutching his head. He closed his eyes and focussed on the pain he was feeling, the pain he was inflicting, gathering it at the forefront of his mind … and then he pushed it at Ashlyn. It took all of his strength and he felt even more shaky than before.

He only knew that he'd been successful when he heard Ashlyn gasp in pain. ”Right,” she muttered, squeezing Ianto's hand. ”There you are.” 

One long moment, nothing happened, and then he felt another consciousness brushing his mind. His eyes snapped open and his mental defence system reacted with a burst of adrenaline that left him reeling. Ashlyn pressed her forehead against his, panting, and stared right at him when she said, ”I'm not in your mind. I don't want to go in, all right? That's not what I want at all. No reason to be scared.” She bit her lip, a concentrated expression flickering across her face … and then something changed. A warm presence wrapped around his mind, not going even close to his barriers. Instead, it covered his confusion and pain with a thick blanket of comfort and calm … muffling his negative emotions and bringing them down to a manageable level. 

”What ...” Ianto licked his lips. 

Ashlyn smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. ”Hello again, Ianto. My name is Ashlyn. And I'm your anchor.”


	6. Chapter 6

**6.**

 

Tosh had settled into the boardroom with her laptop, since it was more comfortable to open a channel via phone or video to UNIT from here. The others had left, leaving her in charge of the Hub and alone. Another reason why she preferred to set up camp in the boardroom. When she was alone, the Hub with its many sub-levels and corridors seemed too big to her. The boardroom, though, was a brightly lit island surrounded by glass walls. She felt safe here, even though she knew that the Hub was one of the more secure places in the UK. Maybe because she had a good field of vision to the main floor beneath from up here or maybe because there was only one entryway. 

Tosh was tapping away at her laptop, downloading data from the Rift manipulator and running several analyses on it, when the flatscreen on the wall switched on and the open channel to Jamie Wheeler's office was activated.

 _”Hello,”_ Wheeler said, only giving her a short glance before he continued to type on his laptop. _”Miss Sato.”_

”Hi,” Tosh answered. 

Wheeler gave her a smile that vanished quickly again as he asked, _”Is Captain Harkness there?”_

”On his way to Glasgow,” Tosh answered. ”You can talk to me.”

_”I'm just calling for an update. Feeling a little useless without the full set of data over here.”_

”Nothing new so far,” Tosh replied. ”No sign of new quakes, either.”

Wheeler gave a thoughtful nod. _”Seems like the storm has blown over.”_

”I wouldn't count on that,” Tosh said. ”It's not safe until we find the reason for the event.”

 _”True,”_ he replied. _”Did you hear from your lost agent?”_

”No.” Tosh sat back in her chair with a sigh and crossed her arms. ”He'll be fine, though. Jack left to see to it.” 

_”Where are the others?”_ Wheeler asked. _”You're looking a little lonely over there.”_

Tosh smiled. She almost regretted that she had to give him a vague answer. She quite liked him. ”On an assignment.” 

_”Don't think I didn't notice the evasion tactic there,”_ Wheeler said. 

Tosh laughed. ”You caught that, yeah?”

_”It's pretty obvious, typical Torchwood manoeuvre. I should know – it's a typical UNIT manoeuvre as well.”_

Tosh laughed again and Wheeler grinned, his brown eyes sparkling with humour. Then he suddenly became serious and glanced at something Tosh couldn't see. _”I'm keeping you from your work,”_ he said. _”Sorry.”_

”No worries. The computer's just running some equations. I'm waiting for the results.”

He didn't say anything for a long moment, but he looked like he wanted to. 

“What's wrong?” Tosh asked.

 _”It's just ...”_ He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. _”The more I think about it,”_ he said, _”the more I get the feeling that the quakes were only the start.”_

”A symptom,” Tosh agreed. ”Telling us something bigger is wrong.”

 _”Something ...”_ He swallowed nervously. _”Something far worse. I thought that maybe a parallel world was bleeding through for some reason. But now I doubt that it's that.”_

Tosh leaned forward, interested. ”What's your theory?”

 _”I think ...”_ He swallowed again and rubbed his forehead. _”I think something's tampering with time, changing it. Usually, small changes wouldn't be a problem, and bigger changes sometimes call upon the Doctor's interference … but this is almost like ...”_

“Time itself fighting back?” Tosh asked. 

He gave a nod. 

She looked at the data rattling over her laptop screen. ”Something's been changed so irrevocably that time itself feels hurt and fights back?”

_”It's communicating. Presenting us with something impossible so we would investigate. Why else would it have been mainly UNIT and Torchwood branches affected by the quakes?”_

”It's still a very daring theory.” 

_”Time is a feeling entity. We know that much by now.”_

”Okay, let's say you're right,” Tosh agreed, ”who would be able to fight time itself?”

 _”I thought about that, too,”_ Wheeler answered. _”I only see one solution: A Time Lord.”_

***

Waking up was difficult, his head hammering, his eyes heavy. Pain was blooming in his head and leg and he groaned quietly. He couldn't remember what had happened or where he was, but the surface he was lying on was soft, the cotton under his fingertips worn, the smell of old books lingering in the air.

Torchwood Two, Archie's flat.

Ianto relaxed a bit and let the memories of the past few days catch up to him. Two voices interrupted, a man's and a woman's, agitated and stubborn.

The woman said, "Surely, a hospital would be better for him."

"Surely, you understand that's not exactly your decision, Professor Ronson."

"Well, considering I'm his anchor, it certainly is."

"It doesn't work like that. We both know that."

Steps of one person faded away and then the woman sighed deeply. "All too well," she muttered. 

Ianto remembered the quakes, being in the tunnel, Archie dying … 

“You know that I know you're awake, right?” She stepped closer and Ianto opened his eyes slowly, realizing that he was lying in his bed in Archie's guest room. Looking at him was the same woman from the tunnel – Ashlyn. She wasn't wearing a uniform any longer. Instead, she was clad in dark jeans and a white long-sleeved top, both of them accentuating her slim figure while not being overly tight. Her red hair was pinned up neatly. "Hello, Ianto," she said with a smile. "This is all rather unorthodox, I'm afraid." She pulled the desk chair closer and sank into it, leaning forwards. "It's very important that you answer a question for me."

Ianto cleared his throat. "If you answer some for me."

Ashlyn smiled. "Of course." She heaved a sigh. "I knew Archie," she said. "I knew him very well. It's a shock that he's dead." She licked her lips and tears shimmered in her eyes, but she shook her head and asked firmly, "Were you connected to him when he died? Did you ... feel it?" 

Ianto had to think about that for a moment. He had tried to read Archie's feelings, yes, but only after … he swallowed and closed his eyes. "No."

Ashlyn let out a relieved breath. "Good. That's good."

”I remember,” Ianto said, hesitated, swallowed. ”You're my anchor.”

”Yes.” Ashlyn nodded sharply and reached for a bottle of water, pouring some into a glass. 

Ianto sat up carefully, leaning back against the headboard. His head felt awful and he was slightly dizzy. When he raised a hand to the aching spot on at his hairline, he noticed a band-aid. 

”Three stitches,” Ashlyn said. 

Ianto looked down at his leg. His jeans was ripped and bloody at the calf, but a clean, white bandage peeked out from underneath the mess.

”Yeah, that would be twenty stitches. You lost quite a bit of blood, but you didn't need a transfusion. At least that's what these idiots told me, who knows?”

”How long was I out?”

”Five hours.” 

His eyes widened. ”Captain Harkness, he must be-”

”We can't reach him. Somebody at Torchwood Three picked up and told us he's on his way, so we assume that he's on an airplane. If that's the case, he'll be here soon enough.” She handed him the glass and he drank carefully, enjoying the feeling of the cool water running down his parched throat. Gently, Ashlyn asked, ”Do you know what an anchor is, Ianto?”

Ianto cleared his throat. ”Archie taught me to calm down by projecting a relaxing image back at myself. He said that an anchor is kind of the same, just … another individual.”

Ashlyn nodded approvingly. ”Empaths aren't always in control of their emotions. It's difficult for them when they're hurt or in a life and death situation. An anchor is someone walking into the danger beside them and helping them when it gets too much.” She smiled. “Anchors and empaths are bound together. They don't live in each other's heads, of course, but they share something deeper than friendship – an instinctual understanding of each other. Both sides benefit from the arrangement. They protect each other.” She shrugged and leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms. ”Usually, a bond like that is formed between people who are close. Not as close as lovers – a relationship like that must remain platonic – but friends. However, a good anchor can form a bond with any empath they meet.” She shrugged again. ”I'm very good.”

Ianto stared at her. ”And we bonded?”

”Yes.”

Ianto wanted to be angry and he was, for a second, but then he calmed again. He realized that it was Ashlyn who was tampering with his feelings and he wanted to feel betrayed … but that feeling, too, was muffled and died. 

Only a spark of anger remained. 

Ianto wasn't sure whether he liked this situation.

Ashlyn seemed to feel that, because her face became sympathetic. ”I'm sorry, Ianto. Regarding your history, there was no other choice. I was requested to stand by and when it became clear that you needed help ...”

”You became my anchor.” Ianto tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, intending to stand up and find his mobile and call Jack himself until he picked up … but the room started to sway and he sank back against the headboard. Something moved in the corner of his eye, at the door to the guest room and he saw two UNIT soldiers hovering there, watching him mistrustfully, their hands on their guns.

”You shouldn't,” Ashlyn said softly. ”You're not well.”

”You can feel that?”

”I can feel everything you feel, even when you're not projecting. But ...” She smiled. ”It's not as concentrated as when you project on others. Anchors learn to read their empath's emotions, not live them.”

Ianto swallowed, glancing at the soldiers again. ”What will happen to me?”

”For now? Nothing,” Ashlyn answered. ”You didn't hurt anyone.”

”They don't exactly act like I'm a guest,” Ianto replied, giving the soldiers a glare. 

Ashlyn glanced at them and chuckled. ”Those two? They don't glower just at you … half of that glare is directed at me.” She looked back at Ianto and her brown eyes softened. ”I'm not UNIT, Ianto.”

”Who are you, then?” he asked but whatever she had intended to answer was cut off by raised, muffled voices from downstairs and then the sound of a door being slammed open. 

”... never trust UNIT!” Jack's voice thundered upstairs and Ianto huffed a breath while relief bloomed in his chest. 

Ashlyn laughed. ”Seems like Captain Harkness got the messages.”

”You misunderstand the situation!” a man answered.

”I don't think I do!” Jack said loudly. ”We all know that a connection between an empath and anchor can't be broken forcibly by anything less than death! I don't approve of one of your men taking control over one of mine that way!”

”Oh dear,” Ashlyn said and got up, facing the door and tugging on her top to straighten it. She looked like a woman about to face battle and she was ready for Jack when he stormed through the door, all whirling coat and thunderous frown edged into his handsome face ... and Ianto had missed him so much. 

Jack took one look at Ashlyn, then he glanced at Ianto and his eyebrows creased together while he focussed on Ashlyn again. ”I don't want to hear what you have to say for yourself. I want you to sever the connection to Ianto Jones immediately and completely. He doesn't need an anchor and certainly not one who is on UNIT's payroll!”

Ashlyn crossed her arms. ”Captain Harkness, I presume?”

”Skip the niceties,” he snarled, advancing on her.

Ianto cleared his throat. ”Sir,” he said, but Jack raised a hand in his direction. A stab of irritation ran through Ianto, but he suppressed it.

Ashlyn chuckled. ”You do know that it irritates Ianto when you do that? He's just too nice to say so.”

Jack glared at her, looming over her slim, petite frame like a storm cloud. ”Sever the connection! Now!”

Ashlyn seemed not impressed or scared at all, which was quite a feat. When Jack got angry, he turned into a force of nature. Ashlyn braved it without even backing away. ”I think we should clear some things up, Captain.”

Jack put his hands on his hips. ”Be my guest,” he hissed.

”I am not your enemy,” Ashlyn said. ”I can sever the connection, yes, but you need to work on your attitude.”

”I won't have UNIT messing around with my people.”

”It's a good thing then that I'm not from UNIT. I don't get paid by them,” Ashlyn replied. ”In fact, I don't get paid at all. I'm here to help.”

Jack scoffed. ”Just out of the goodness of your heart?”

”There's that,” Ashlyn answered. ”And of course the fact that we're part of the same team. Kind of.”

Jack's eyes narrowed. ”What's that supposed to mean?”

”I'm Ashlyn Ronson,” she said. 

Jack just raised his eyebrows, clueless. Now that she'd said the name like that again, Ianto felt like there was a memory tickling at the back of his mind, but his headache made it difficult to think.

“Right, you wouldn't know my name,” Ashlyn said, almost to herself. ”And you never saw my face.”

”Who the hell are you?” Jack asked.

”I'm a freelancer, just trying to help ... but I used to work for Torchwood Four.”


	7. Chapter 7

**7.**

 

“The last time we read the signal was at the main station,” Owen said, dropping his suitcase into the back of the taxi they'd found in front of the airport. It was drizzling and miserably cold – quite similar to Cardiff, really. Around them, people were coming and going, dropping of loved ones and friends or picking them up. It was easy to see that the Frankfurt Airport was one of the biggest in Europe, buzzing with energy and people. 

Directly behind the taxi they'd chosen, a black, powerful motorbike was standing and Owen gave it an appreciative glance, then smirked at the driver who hadn't taken off his helmet to wait for whoever he was picking up. ”Nice bike,” Owen said. 

The driver nodded at him. ”Kawasaki Ninja,” his voice came from the helmet, muffled.

The taxi driver slammed the boot of the car shut and settled into the driver seat. Owen nodded at the biker and got into the back of the taxi with Gwen. 

”Main station … a bit public, isn't it?” Gwen asked and turned to the driver. ”Steigenberger at the main station, please.”

The driver nodded, chuckling at something the man on the radio said and turning the volume a bit up before he joined the traffic leaving the airport. Owen checked the print-out with their hotel reservation. ”Five stars. That's something at least.”

”Where's that kind of budget coming from?” Gwen asked with a frown. 

Owen shrugged. ”I don't really care. I think Jack's paying for it himself.”

Gwen frowned at him. ”Seriously?” 

Owen nodded. ”He mentioned it once. Said that he has enough money to make us comfortable when we have to work out of town.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows sceptically but seemed willing to drop the subject. ”So … main station.”

”Underground in fact,” Owen said with a nod and lowered his voice a bit. ”Signal came from even deeper than the local tube is located. Apparently, the main station's got catacombs, but I don't think many people walk the tunnels. Tosh says that we should look for a separate entrance on the North side. That's where it was the strongest.” 

Gwen nodded her agreement and then turned to look out the window. 

Owen sighed. ”Did you see that motorbike? A dream come true.”

”I didn't think you knew how to ride one.”

”I don't,” Owen replied and gave a weak smile. ”I always wanted to learn, though.”

Gwen looked at him thoughtfully. ”Maybe you should now. With everything that's been happening … wouldn't that make you happy?”

Owen closed his eyes an crossed his arm, settling back into the seat. ”Happy,” he said slowly and sighed. ”Yeah, that would be nice.” 

***

“No,” Jack said. He grabbed Ronson by the shoulders and pinned her against the wall, one hand snapping the Webley from its holster and pointing it at her.

”Jack!” he heard Ianto shout. The young soldier leading the rescue operation – Alex Houghton – pointed his own gun at Jack. 

Ronson just looked at him as if she didn't care about the danger he put her in, her brown eyes calm. ”You won't shoot.” 

”Watch me,” Jack replied grimly. ”Sever the connection.”

Ianto's voice got louder, a warning issued. ”Jack, don't!”

”I won't have Torchwood Four mess with my people!”

Houghton ordered, ”Captain, lower your weapon – now!”

”Not before she severs the connection to Ianto.”

Ronson shook her head. ”Not at gunpoint.”

”Would you all just stop!?” Ianto asked loudly. Jack heard Ianto get up and hiss in pain, then limp toward them, clearly favouring his good leg. Ianto placed his hand on Jack's shoulder. ”If she was betraying us,” Ianto said slowly, ”wouldn't I know?”

”She's your anchor, she could manipulate you.”

Houghton shook his head. ”Professor Ronson passed all the tests, Captain Harkness. Don't you think we put her through the wringer when she first approached us? She's been a freelancer for us for about a year now.”

Ronson nodded. ”I was a freelancer for Torchwood Four as well, but I left them shortly before they vanished.” 

”Professor Ronson! Now I remember you,” Ianto said. ”You're a specialist in the field of mental abilities.” 

Ronson smiled at him. ”Mainly, I teach astrophysics at Oxford but yes, mental abilities are a hobby. Not many people know that.” She looked at Jack. ”You gun's still in my face. If you would please point it elsewhere, Captain?”

Reluctantly, Jack lowered the Webley, but he kept a close eye on Ronson. ”The connection?”

Ronson's eyes focussed on Ianto behind Jack and he suppressed the impulse to turn around and look.

”Ianto?” Ronson asked. 

”I'll be fine,” he answered. “I feel much better now.”

”It's severed then.” 

Jack waited until he felt Ianto send a calming thought his way and then let go of her. Houghton lowered his gun, his brown eyes narrowed in annoyance. ”Right. Is this sorted, then? Can I go and actually see to it that things get done around here?”

Ronson nodded at him. ”I think we'll be fine now, Captain. Thank you.”

Houghton glared at Jack. ”We should talk, Captain. Ten minutes.” With that, he left.

Ronson brushed her fingers through her reddish hair, tucking in the strands that had come loose from the plait she wore. Ianto sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed and his forehead creased in concentration. Jack could tell that he was in pain and seemed determined not to project it onto them. He couldn't focus on Ianto at the moment, though. Ronson was more important. She crossed her arms. ”This is a very difficult situation, Captain. It's my understanding that Archie meant a lot to you. He meant a lot to me as well.”

Jack turned away, clenching his hands to fists. ”He never mentioned you.”

”He wouldn't. Though he talked about you all the time.”

Jack turned around to her and found her smiling warmly at him. It soothed his irritation a bit and he took a deep breath to calm down. ”How well did you know him?”

Ronson stepped closer. ”Very well.”

”That's good, because I need answers and apparently, I didn't know him at all.”

Her hand on his arm surprised him. Her brown eyes, looking up at him, showed sympathy. ”He had his reasons for keeping secrets.”

Jack pressed his lips together. He thought of himself as being a very tolerant man, but he couldn't stand people he trusted betraying him. Especially when he found out about it and had no chance to ask them why. ”Which are?” 

Ronson bit her lip and shook her head. ”Not now. Captain Houghton wants to see you.”

”He can wait.”

Ronson stared at him for a long moment and to his own surprise, Jack found himself shifting uncomfortably. Her eyes seemed to be all-knowing, piercing right into his soul. It was disconcerting, because Archie used to look at him in a similar fashion. Ronson squeezed his arm. ”He'll want to know why he had to wait.” She shook her head. ”Let's not draw attention to ourselves. As far as they're concerned, I'm here because they requested me to come.” 

Jack frowned. ”And that's not the reason you're here?”

”No, I'm here to set things right.” She lowered her voice. ”I'll be at the B&B down the street in half an hour, Captain. Drop in when you can get away and you'll get answers.” Her eyes flicked to Ianto. ”Come alone.”

With that, she turned away and walked out the door before Jack could stop her. He looked after her quizzically. She seemed harmless but Jack didn't like that she wasn't completely open about her motives. ”I don't like this. She's not who she claims to be.”

Ianto replied, ”I didn't feel any deception when I was connected to her, though.” 

Jack turned around to him, focussing fully on him for the first time since he'd arrived. ”An anchor is linked directly to an empath's emotions. She could have manipulated you and you would never know.”

Ianto inclined his head in acceptance of Jack's words and shifted uncomfortably where he was sat on the edge of the bed. ”What are you going to do?”

”Well, I guess I'll have to go and meet her,” Jack answered thoughtfully. ”At least to see what she wants.” He stepped closer to Ianto and buried his hands in his coat pockets. ”Are you all right?”

Ianto looked pale and tired. There was dust and dirt on his clothes, smudged on his face and hands, and even in his hair. His torn jeans were bloody and he was squinting against what seemed to be a headache. Small waves of pain reached Jack, projected at him from Ianto – a sign that he wasn't as completely in control as he'd like to think he was. ”I've been better, but it's okay.”

Jack looked at the bandage on Ianto's leg. ”Did they take care of you?”

Ianto nodded.

”Good.” He didn't know what else to say, feeling strangely shy all of a sudden. Normally, he would flirt, see how far Ianto would let him go. But Archie was dead and learning that had ripped a hole into Jack's heart that would most likely never heal properly. Aside from that, Ianto and he had been drifting back towards intimacy in small steps but were still somehow a bit insecure around each other. It had been almost a year since Ianto had joined Torchwood Three and both their lives had been turned around completely more than once since then. 

Jack felt affection and longing – these emotions projected at him quite deliberately. Ianto was just as rubbish as Jack in talking about his feelings but he had the advantage of being able to show people how he felt. Jack smiled at him, hoping that Ianto could feel his relief and desire in return, as muffled as they were by grief.

Ianto's face pulled into a sympathetic frown and he held out a hand, which Jack took hesitantly. Ianto got to his feet and pulled him closer, pressing up against him with his arms wrapped around Jack's neck. He leaned their foreheads together, his breath brushing Jack's cheek and lips. He felt warm against Jack's front; the smell of damp air and dust clinging to him was easily ignored. Jack's arms came up around Ianto's waist, helping him to stand when exhaustion and his hurt leg made Ianto shift uncomfortably. Jack dropped a kiss into Ianto's hair and whispered, ”I missed you.”

Ianto sighed, his thumb brushing the skin over Jack's coat collar, and gave a low chuckle. ”I'm wearing the jeans.” 

”I can see that,” Jack replied with a sad smile, his fingers brushing over the rough denim. Ianto licked his lips and tilted his head back before fitting their mouths together hesitantly. Jack pulled him closer, burying one hand in Ianto's short hair and adjusting the angle slightly, parting Ianto's lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss. Ianto moaned softly, the emotions he projected strong enough to make Jack want to curl up with him for a very long time. It had been so long since they'd done this, since they'd kissed like this. It had been too risky with Ianto's empathy all over the place – the danger of him losing his grip on his emotions too big. But he was trained now and still alive and Jack needed this, needed Ianto close and safe. It didn't matter that it became increasingly dangerous to submit to that need, lest he got too attached. He was still waiting for the Doctor to arrive so he could ask him about his immortality, yes, but he wasn't that inclined to travel with him anymore. Not with his team becoming closer and better, not with Ianto becoming more than the confidant and friend he slept with sometimes. 

His hand tugged the bottom of Ianto's hoodie up slightly, settling on the warm skin underneath. Ianto shivered at the contact … and somebody cleared their throat behind them. 

Ianto stiffened and tried to pull away, but Jack kept him close, kept the kiss alive, held up a hand in a _'give me a second'_ gesture to whoever was disturbing them. He gentled the kiss, turning it into lingering pecks and finally stopped altogether, smiling at Ianto. ”I missed you,” he repeated. 

Ianto's bright blue eyes were almost swallowed by his widened pupils. His hair was in disarray, and his cheeks were flushed beautifully. ”Me too.” 

Jack placed a last kiss on Ianto's forehead and turned around to the young soldier at the door, who was keeping his gaze resolutely on his shoes. ”What is it?”

”Captain Houghton, sir,” the soldier stammered and looked up at Jack nervously. ”He's asking for you, if you … have the time.”

”I don't,” Jack replied, ”but I'll join him anyway. Tell him I'll be there in a minute.”

The young man saluted and fled. Ianto chuckled and sat on the bed again to rest his leg. Jack sighed and straightened his shirt and braces. ”I'll go and talk to Ronson after. Are you going to be all right?” 

Ianto nodded. ”I'm going to see about something to eat and maybe a shower, and then lie down for a bit.”

”Okay. Call me if anything comes up.” 

Ianto grinned. ”Yes, sir.”

Jack winked at him and left.

***

 _“A Time Lord?”_ Colonel Houghton exclaimed incredulously. Tosh saw Wheeler cringe slightly away from his glare and pulled a face in sympathy. It was obvious even through the video conference channel that Wheeler and Houghton weren't friends. Houghton levelled his glare at her but she felt like it was slightly less derisive than when it had been directed at Wheeler. _”Is that the best you can come up with? A Time Lord?”_

Wheeler's hands clenched around the clipboard he was holding against his chest like a shield. _”It's the only explanation.”_

Houghton ignored him, staring at Tosh with dark, piercing eyes. She gave a nod of agreement.

 _”But we only know one Time Lord,”_ Houghton said, _”and he's not here at the moment.”_

 _”That we know of,”_ Wheeler replied. 

Houghton scoffed and folded his hands on his back. _”He wouldn't hurt time like that. No report about him indicates that he could be capable of doing this.”_

 _”And yet,”_ Wheeler said and it was obvious that it took some nerve to speak up against Houghton, _”it seems to be the only possibility.”_

Houghton looked at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. His expression remained stony and hard, barely readable. Finally, he nodded sharply. _”What can we do?”_

Tosh breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed into her chair at the boardroom table. ”We've been playing around with ideas and theories and I think we might be able to track the quakes back to the trigger. All we need to do is evaluate data.”

Wheeler nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. _”Lots of data.”_

”Lots of data,” Tosh confirmed. ”We can run it through a programme that Dr. Wheeler said he can write to improve the Rift manipulator's range in Cardiff, and follow the quakes back to their origin. And once we have the origin, we might find the trigger.”

Houghton wasn't stupid, Tosh had to give him that. When he nodded in agreement, he seemed perfectly capable of understanding, at least theoretically, what they'd just told him. _”All right. Do it.”_

Wheeler lifted a hand hesitantly. _”Just one tiny problem. I can't do it from here. I need to look at the source material … at the source.”_

Houghton's eyes narrowed. _”Meaning the Rift manipulator in Torchwood Three?”_

Wheeler nodded. _”Miss Sato agreed that I could come.”_

_”I'll give you three men. For your own protection.”_

Tosh shook her head and straightened her posture. ”I granted Dr. Wheeler access. Not your men.” Houghton glared at her but she remained firm, even though she felt nervous about telling him no. She had got used to Jack handling UNIT for her. She wasn't meek by any definition, but UNIT was her weakness. She'd been imprisoned by them too long not to fear them. She let all the authority she could muster bleed through into her voice. ”He won't need protection, he is perfectly safe here.” 

Houghton's eye narrowed, but in the end, they both knew that he didn't have any other chance but to accept. Torchwood was still independent from UNIT. Nevertheless, Tosh breathed a sigh of relief when Houghton gave a reluctant nod. _”All right.”_ He turned to Wheeler. _“My office in five minutes.”_ Without saying another word, he left the screen and one moment later, a door fell shut. 

Wheeler smiled happily. _”Easier than I thought. Well played, Miss Sato.”_

”Please,” she replied, ”call me Tosh.”

He smiled again. _”Tosh. I'm Jamie.”_

***

Owen looked at the huge building that was the main station and the many people milling about in front of it – leaving, arriving, waiting. A light drizzle was coming down from the grey clouds, a cold wind making the weather even more uncomfortable. He shivered a bit in his leather jacket, but pretended not to be affected when Gwen returned to him with a to-go cup of Starbucks clutched in her hand. ”There's a lot of people in there,” she said, nodding at the entrance doors to the station. ”Security, too.”

”I don't think we need to go in via the front door,” he replied, checking the scanner in his hand. ”According to this, the signal emanated from the side of the building. So maybe we'll find a side door or something.”

”Let's go there first, then,” Gwen agreed, tucking her dark hair behind one ear with one and sipping from her cup.

”How come,” Owen asked, starting to stroll towards the side of the building casually with Gwen by his side, ”that the first thing in a new location you always find is the Starbucks?”

”It's a gift,” she answered. ”And they're everywhere.”

Tires squealed, a car honked and Owen turned back around towards the taxi stand to see two drivers yelling at each other. People around them walked on, some smiling in bemusement, others ignoring the argument. He was just about to turn away when he saw it. ”Hey,” he said to Gwen, slowing and pretending to look at the scanner, then he stopped entirely.

”What is it?” she asked. 

He pulled a map of the city out of his jeans pocket and handed it to her. ”Onlooker, in the small parking lot at the taxi stand.”

Gwen unfolded the map and studied it for a moment, then turned to look, ducking her head towards the map repeatedly as if she was looking for a landmark and deliberately turning in some other directions before addressing Owen again. ”The motorbike?”

”Yeah,” Owen answered, remembering the name easily. ”Kawasaki Ninja. The same was in front of the airport. The driver has the same stature, can't say if it's the same bloke, though.”

”He's wearing his helmet,” Gwen said, sipping her coffee thoughtfully. 

Owen turned towards the onlooker once more, pretending to watch the taxi drivers. The man was standing next to his bike with his arms crossed, wearing dark jeans and a black leather jacket. Owen probably wouldn't have noticed him if he wasn't still wearing his helmet. It was strange to see someone wearing it while being parked. 

He turned away again, slowly, pretending to laugh. 

Gwen joined in, asking with a wide grin, ”UNIT?” 

”Don't think so. They're cleverer.”

”Who then?”

”Well,” Owen answered and walked on towards the side of the building, following the scanner's lead. One glance back over his shoulder pretending to look after a young woman appreciatively showed him that the biker was following them, still wearing his helmet. ”Let's get him alone and ask.”


	8. Chapter 8

**8.**

 

Jack found Houghton on the ground floor in the kitchen, thoughtfully pouring himself a cup of tea. He looked strangely out of place in the homey kitchen, wearing his green uniform and military demeanour. When he noticed Jack, he gave a tight smile, his brown eyes remaining serious. ”Tea?” 

”No, thank you,” Jack answered with a frown and crossed his arms. ”I see you already made yourself quite at home here.” 

Houghton's expression became stony and he glared at him. ”We've been here since the small hours of the morning, rescuing _your_ agent by the way. I think I'm entitled to a cup of tea.”

Jack pressed his lips together, but conceded the point. 

Houghton shook his head, his boyish face becoming tired and drawn. ”Apologies, Captain, I'm … “ He grabbed a manila folder off the kitchen counter and handed it to Jack. ”I've been receiving reports from HQ in London.” Jack took the folder and opened it, encountering several pages of scanner readings he couldn't hope to understand without Tosh and a short summary. While he was still reading it, Houghton said, ”There's more than the Big Five. Ten epicentres, they say. The five we knew about and five we didn't.”

Jack closed the folder and and looked at Houghton coolly. His thoughts strayed to the fact that Archie had placed emergency beacons at each of those five epicentres … that without the quakes today, they still wouldn't know that he'd been hiding them all these years. 

Houghton sipped his tea. ”The suggestion was made to find the rest and establish bases there. I'm sure we can rely on your support in this.”

Jack put his hands on his hips, pushing back his coat a bit to do so to let Houghton see his gun. He could already guess what kind of request would come next and he wouldn't give in without a fight. ”What would you need?” 

”The Rift Manipulator in your base is much more fine-tuned than everything UNIT has, they say. We would need readings off it to see where exactly we should dig for the sources. Also, professional support by Miss Sato wouldn't go amiss.” He sipped his tea and leaned back against the counter, regarding Jack challengingly.

”I'll think about it,” Jack replied. 

Houghton's mouth tightened in annoyance, but the rest of his expression and body language didn't give anything away. ”That Rift Manipulator … I read reports on it, heard stories. I'm not one for science, Captain, but even I understand that it's very advanced. Where'd you get your hands on something like that?”

Jack shrugged. ”Found it.”

”Where? Lying on the street?”

Jack slapped the folder onto the counter closest to him. ”You'd be surprised what we find in Cardiff.” There was no need to let UNIT know that the manipulator was Torchwood Four technology. Jack himself wished it wasn't. He cleared his throat. ”Surely, finding the other epicentres isn't top priority right now.”

”Oh, no,” Houghton answered with a shrug. He sidled closer to the fridge, taking one of the biscuits on the plate set out next to it. Jack resisted the urge to slap it out of his hand. ”We're looking at getting this crisis resolved before we start looking. It's not a pressing matter at all.”

Jack nodded in agreement. ”So what's the plan?”

”At the moment, we are recovering McIntyre's body. If you want to, I can inform you and give you a moment with him before we transport him away.”

Jack crossed his arms. ”He will be brought to Cardiff and stored with the other Torchwood agents killed in the line of duty.”

Houghton hesitated. ”I would have to clear that with my superiors.”

”No, you don't. This is a Torchwood facility and Archie was a Torchwood agent. He will be laid to rest where he belongs.” 

Houghton sighed. ”Fine.” He put the mug in the sink. ”You're welcome to stay as long as you like, go through the records and make a copy for yourself. Once you're done, UNIT will be happy to take over.”

Jack frowned quizzically. ”Take over what?”

”The base.” 

Jack scoffed. ”Yeah, like hell!”

”Captain-” 

”Captain,” Jack interrupted him, ”as I just said, this a Torchwood base.”

”It is now, but who will run it? You're only five people and as far as I'm aware, you can't spare anyone long-term.” 

”I'll recruit someone.”

”UNIT is happy to assist while you're doing that then.”

”UNIT won't set foot into the secure archives of this base!” Jack shouted. Houghton stared at him in surprise and Jack took a deep breath, calming himself down, and raised a hand. ”Sorry.” 

Houghton nodded at him. 

Jack took a deep breath. ”Your help is appreciated, but Torchwood will continue running this base.”

”Captain,” Houghton said calmly and stepped closer, ”I will respect that, I just doubt that it's very practical. Torchwood's funding will be cut down to zero soon. It's no secret the current Prime Minister isn't too fond of you and UNIT has already argued several times that two organisations covering the same issues is one too many.” He looked even younger close-up and Jack wondered how old he was. Just like Torchwood, UNIT recruited the youngest and brightest, so there was no doubt in his mind that Houghton was quite capable and good in his job – no matter that his father was in UNIT as well.

He narrowed his eyes. ”Torchwood's funding is not yours to worry about.” He took another deep breath. ”I'm going out for some fresh air. Keep me informed on when Archie's body is recovered.”

Houghton nodded. ”We're still waiting for the radiation to die down completely. We will be able to enter the chamber then.”

Jack accepted that without another word and left.

***

The B&B was located above a pub that Archie had frequented, in one of the oldest houses on the street. Jack had rented a room there once or twice when he'd managed to acquire company over night and didn't want to take them back to Archie's flat. He remembered that the rooms were small, but comfy, with big beds and knick-knacks on every available surface. 

The pub was just as traditional: warm and quiet at this time of day, with heavy wooden chairs and tables and a huge bar stacked with everything guests might ask for. The personnel was friendly, serving lunch specials to the few guests who had come here. Jack knew that the pub was busier in the evening. 

Now, it was easy to locate Ronson sitting at one of the tables tucked away in a corner. She was drinking coffee, the remains of her lunch on the table next to her. Jack sat down opposite her. "So," he said, "let's talk."

Ronson looked at him. ”Are you hungry?”

”No,” he answered. ”I want to know what you meant when you said that you're here to set things right.”

Ronson leaned back in her chair. ”Right down to business. I see. Archie was right about you.” She sipped her coffee and made sure that nobody was close to them before she said, “Archie wasn't the person you thought he was, just like I'm not the person UNIT thinks I am. I'm also not the person Torchwood Four took me for.” She smiled at him, but her expression was sad. ”You need to understand that I'm just trying to do right by everyone involved, as did Archie, but … Earth is on a tipping point. It can go either way from here on and I'm afraid, Captain, that you will be the one to tip it. Archie was here to make sure you would tip it in the right direction … I am here to finish what he started.”

Jack took that in for a moment. ”Why did he never tell me?”

”I'm sure that you of all people understand that some missions need to be carried out with utmost discretion. If you had known that you were being manipulated, you would have done everything in your power to stop us.”

Jack rubbed his forehead. ”Yeah, you see, there's the problem I have with your story right there. Discretion is all well and good but you just told me everything.”

“Because things developed in a manner that we hadn't foreseen.”

”The Rift quakes?”

”Yes, the Rift quakes, among other things. There are people on this planet Archie tried to protect. He kept them shielded for decades. We trusted him to do so. The quakes changed everything. His death was unexpected and what's even worse, the measures he took to protect his charges revealed them to you. Apparently, he trusted you to take over when he was unable to fulfil his duties, and there is no way that their existence and the importance of them can be explained to you without revealing everything about us.”

Jack folded his hands on the table, signalling that he was ready to listen. ”Who are you then?”

”We're the ones who see everything,” Ronson said. ”Time and space. Future and past. Each and every life in this universe, like threads weaving through empty space, crossing, knotting together, separating ...” 

Jack stared at her. He needed a moment to connect the dots, but when he did, his eyes widened. ”You're a seer. Like a little girl in Cardiff I know. Or at least, she disguises herself as a little girl.”

”Oh, no!” Ronson said with a smile. ”She _is_ a little girl. She has been for a very long time. You get to see her real form. She changes the perception of others, makes them see her as an adult.”

Jack swallowed. ”Why am I so special that I can see her real form, then?”

”You're a fixed point in time, Jack. Seers are unable to disguise themselves from people like you – and no, you are not the only one, but that is a story for another day.”

Jack cleared his throat. ”So, you're a seer, but you didn't see the Rift quakes coming?”

”I'm not a seer, Jack, not directly. You know, seers … they are our children. They inherited the eyes that can see beyond this time but they didn't inherit the skill to actually manipulate time.” She smiled when Jack tensed. ”Oh, you know about that. Time Agent. I guess you could say that we are Time Agents as well. Setting right what went wrong. On a much bigger scale.”

His heartbeat picked up a bit. It had been a while since he'd left the Time Agency but he still remembered that he hadn't left peacefully and for a long time, he'd been worried they'd send someone to arrest him. ”Are you from the Shadow Proclamation?”

Ronson shook her head. ”No.” 

”Time Lord?”

Ronson chuckled. ”Time Lord? We're older than their race, more powerful. Time Lords … they're like children.” 

”Who are you?”

She ducked her head. ”You could call us time's police. The universe's judges.” When she lifted her head again, the irises of her eyes had turned a bright red. ”I would call us Gods, but we're all too mortal.” She settled back in her chair. ”I'm a Reaper, Captain Harkness. And you want to know the really interesting thing?”

Jack nodded, too stunned to say anything.

”Archie McIntyre was one, too.”


	9. Chapter 9

**9.**

 

“This is simply amazing,” Jamie said, looking around the Hub. ”Simply amazing!” He looked at Tosh, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose quickly, his dark eyes sparkling in excitement. ”I'm jealous. This is so cool! Like a real Batcave!” 

A sharp cry piercing the air made him jump and clutch his worn backpack closer to his chest as he turned to look up at Myfanwy. She left her nest high above the floor to stretch her wings by making a few rounds around the water tower. It was almost time to feed her her dinner and she got a bit restless around feeding time. Tosh smiled up at her and then at Jamie. 

He was staring at her, his mouth agape. ”You've got dinosaurs?!” He laughed. ”I need to transfer here.”

Tosh crossed her arms, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her to ward off the slight chill permeating the main Hub. ”We only have the one dinosaur. Her name's Myfanwy.”

Jamie dropped his backpack to the floor when Myfanwy landed near the pond surrounding the water tower, peering at Tosh expectantly. Jamie took a step towards her and Myfanwy's eyes quickly focussed on him. Jamie raised his hands placatingly. ”Can I touch her?”

Tosh shook her head. ”I wouldn't try. She's pretty lethal. Sometimes, she lets us stroke her beak or wings, but she's really more attached to Ianto than anyone else.”

Jamie smiled. ”How come you lot get to hang out with dinosaurs in a secret Batcave and I get yelled at by soldiers all day? It's unfair.”

Tosh chuckled. ”Well, we get yelled at by Jack sometimes. He is kind of a soldier, so it's essentially the same. Well, and then there's the thing about a Victorian underground base not being the same as a high-tech environment with central heating.” 

Jamie shook his head, looking at Myfanwy again. ”I love it.” He cleared his throat and his boyish face became earnest. ”But we should get to work.” The professionalism he was trying to project failed miserably when his stomach grumbled loudly. He blushed. ”Ah, yeah. I kinda missed dinner and lunch … and maybe breakfast and dinner yesterday.”

Tosh's eyes widened. ”Really?” 

”The world was ending. I was busy.”

”I was busy, too. I managed to eat a sandwich.” She shook her head. ”I'll take you to our guest quarters and you get settled. You can set up your equipment in the boardroom upstairs. My stuff is already up there. I'll order dinner and while we eat, we can get started.”

Jamie smiled. ”Sounds like a plan.”

***

Jack stared at Ronson. ”Prove it.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. ”How should I do that?”

”Do it!”

Ronson rolled her eyes. ”Well,” she said, “you never told anyone on Earth about how you lost your brother, did you? That he was taken by monsters when you were just children. That your father died that day and your mother sent you off to the Time Agency and distanced herself from you because even though she tried, she couldn't get over the fact that you let go of your brother when he needed you most.”

Jack swallowed and ducked his head, instinctively avoiding Ronson's eyes. He glanced out the window, at the people passing by unknowing of what was going on, hurrying home to have dinner and watch the telly and not wasting even one thought on what the universe around them had to offer. The danger it posed. The monsters waiting in the shadows. 

Ronson's gentle voice pulled him from his dark thoughts. ”You never mentioned to anyone that you and Matthew were in fact married. It was just a vow made in the middle of the night after you found out about the pregnancy, but still, it was a vow. One that you broke. Not by cheating, never by cheating, but out of fear. Poor Matthew, he took you back anyway, didn't he? Of course he did.” Ronson chuckled. ”He was supposed to.”

Jack looked at her sharply. Her eyes had turned brown again but he was unable to see her as just human now. ”What is that supposed to mean?”

Ronson looked at him earnestly. ”Your relationship to Matthew York was never an accident, Captain. It was supposed to be. It was a match approved by us. You needed Matthew York to make you human again and he did.”

Jack stared at her. ”So you could have stopped him going missing? Him dying?”

”No, because it's not our goal to make you happy, Jack, it's our goal to keep you on your path.” She smiled sadly. ”You were about to leave to Torchwood for him. We couldn't have saved him and kept you where you were supposed to be. That's why we arranged for Michael to be taken from you as well.”

Jack's fists clenched. ”Where do you take the right to decide over peoples' lives that way?”

”Not peoples'.” She shook her head. ”We don't do this for every single being in the universe. Imagine the amount of work going into that. No, we do it just for people like you and those close to people like you. Fixed points in time need to be monitored, constantly, because they could mess with the timeline. They did in the past. They are what makes the universe unpredictable and even we can't change that. We can only try and keep them on a straight line.” 

Jack closed his eyes, forcing his rage down. ”And Archie monitored me?”

”Archie had a lot of things going on. Monitoring you, keeping the seers on this world save and keeping a tight reign on the Doctor whenever he was here.”

Jack laughed incredulously. ”The Doctor? Nobody would be able to keep a tight reign on him.”

”Really nobody? Think again.” Ronson smiled indulgently. ”That child … he is a source of constant joy to us, so different from every other Time Lord, so bright, so interested in other races, worlds and times.” She sighed. ”Unfortunately, he is a fixed point in time as well and the one providing the most work. Uncontrollable … so we gave him people we chose for him, people who we thought would be able to control him.”

Jack stared at her. ”His companions … his companions from Earth were Archie's choices?”

She nodded. ”And you were mine.” She reached out a hand, closing her fingers around his. ”I didn't know how it would end for you. As I said … the Doctor is unpredictable and so are events around him.”

Jack shook his head. ”I don't understand. Why are you telling me all this?”

”Because you need to know.” Ronson withdrew her hand. ”Because we need your support.” She sipped her coffee. ”We're a dying race. So few of us are left. We can't be everywhere at once. Archie was the last of our kind living on Earth and he protected our children here for as long as he could. We will keep an eye on you but our children need a safe haven they can turn to, someone who's always here.”

Jack scoffed. ”You trust Torchwood to be that?”

”I trust you. Archie did. He must have seen this day coming. He must have known that he would have to go. It remains to be seen whether his sacrifice was justified.”

Jack's eyes narrowed. ”He saved Ianto's life.”

”But should he have done that?” 

Ronson looked at him and Jack opened his mouth to answer that of course, Archie should have … and he remembered that he should have saved Jasmine and he shouldn't have sat next to John Ellis while he died … 

He ducked his head. “I don't know.”

”To find that out is part of the reason I'm here,” Ronson said. “I don't know Archie's motives behind his sacrifice but I need to find out. For that, I need his body.”

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed down a wave of grief. ”You need a safe haven for the children?” he asked to distract himself.

Ronson nodded. ”They are adults, so it shouldn't be too difficult.”

”What am I supposed to do?”

”Just be there when they need someone who understands what it means to have to keep part of their life a secret … someone who knows what immortality feels like. They also need help in faking identities when they have to move to other places to keep their cover intact. They die but they age much slower than the average human. That can be a curse.”

Jack nodded his understanding. ”Are all of them Archie's?”

”I know that at least one of them is his – a daughter he had with a human woman – and he adopted several others. We can do that: choose someone and give them the gift of seeing through the veil. Also, there are children and adopted children of other Reapers who visited Earth.”

”Okay,” Jack said with a nod and breathed out. ”I can do that. I can help.”

”Good.” 

”Are you going to tell them?”

”They'll know.”

Jack nodded and smiled sadly. ”Of course they will.”

”Captain,” she said, ”you won't regret this. I know time took a lot from you but she always gives back.”

”Can she fix me, then?” he asked. ”Make me normal again?”

Ronson stared at him, her eyes wide. Then her hand caught his. ”There's nothing to fix.” With that, she got up. ”Nothing at all.”

She left him there.

***

“There,” Gwen said, pointing at a metal door with a sign on it saying something in German. ”If that doesn't look like a secret entrance, I don't know what does.”

Owen raised one eyebrow. ”How about a tourist information?”

Gwen smiled a him. ”We're still being tailed,” she said then, aware of the biker hovering behind some parked cars on the other side of the narrow street. It was quieter on this side of the main station. All the public entrances were further up the road. The light drizzle falling from the sky made Gwen's hair curl on her forehead and she shivered slightly. ”Let's go in. If he's tailing us, he'll follow.”

”That's the plan,” Owen replied, trying the door handle. It didn't surprise Gwen that it was locked. Owen sighed and got out his lock pick.

”That's still disturbing,” Gwen said, feeling the former PC in her rebel at the thought of breaking and entering. She ignored the voice … hunting aliens was a job with a lot of grey areas.

Owen cracked a smile. ”Jack taught me.”

”Doesn't make it right.”

Owen grinned and then focussed on opening the door. Gwen shielded what he was doing as good as possible from the few people walking by on the opposite side of the street while keeping an eye on the biker. He still hadn't taken his helmet off, now carrying a bag slung over his shoulder casually. He was slim and short – shorter than Jack or Ianto, more Owen's height – and didn't look like he would put up too much of a fight if it should come down to that. Gwen estimated that she could take him.

”I'm in,” Owen said and opened the door, stepping inside. Gwen followed him and closed the door quickly. Owen had already flicked a light switch, illuminating a small room which wasn't more than a platform, really. Winding stairs led downwards. 

Gwen peered over the railing, but she couldn't make out what was at the bottom. It would have to wait. ”He'll come over here,” she said, pulling her gun from the back of her jeans.

”Definitely,” Owen agreed, readying his own gun. They took position in a dark corner near the door where they wouldn't be seen immediately. 

It didn't take long for the door handle to be pressed down and Gwen tensed, her fingers tightening around the gun. 

The door opened a crack, as if the biker wasn't sure whether they'd gone down yet. Owen didn't wait for him to make up his mind. He swung the door open, grabbed the biker's jacket and pulled him inside, slamming him up against the wall with his fist curled into his jacket and the gun pointed at the biker's head.

”Stop, stop, stop!” the biker shouted, raising his hands. ”Please don't!”

Gwen closed the door and took position behind Owen. ”Take off the helmet,” she said and Owen took a step back, keeping his gun trained on the biker.

”Let me explain-”

”Take off your helmet!” Owen repeated. ”Then we'll listen to your explanation.” The biker's shoulders slumped and he opened the clip under his chin, slowly taking the helmet off. He had short, dark curly hair and when he raised his head … Gwen took a step back and Owen cursed. ”You are supposed to be dead,” he said. ”There's your name on one of our cold storage units.”

The man who looked like Matthew York shook his head. ”No, not my name. My father's,” he said and swallowed. ”I'm Michael York.”


	10. Chapter 10

**10.**

 

“So how did you get this job?” Jamie asked curiously. 

Tosh took a sip of her water. ”Jack kind of recruited me. He recruited everyone on the team.”

Jamie poked at his egg noddles with his fork, looking thoughtful. They'd settled in the boardroom with dinner while their laptops were running diagnostics. Tosh found Jamie easy to be around. He seemed a bit shy but all in all very nice. 

And attractive. 

She swallowed and quickly turned her attention back to her food. This wasn't the right time for such thoughts and really, she couldn't find her own taste more appalling. First Owen who was the very opposite of everything she was looking for and now Jamie, who worked for an organisation she despised. 

Jamie cleared his throat. ”I had an offer from Torchwood One as well as UNIT. They already found me in university. Should have heard the things they promised to get me to come aboard. It was ...” He shrugged and blushed. ”Flattering, actually.”

”Why UNIT?” Tosh asked. 

Jamie's expression darkened. ”Family thing. Kind of.” He shrugged. “Besides, they offered more freedom for me to decide what I want to work on. Torchwood One seemed a bit restrictive in comparison.”

”Yes, Ianto mentioned that once or twice. He was with One until it fell. It's different here, though. Jack's okay with us doing whatever we want to do, as long as we don't neglect our main job,” Tosh said.

”How is he to work with?” Jamie asked. ”I've heard the best and the worst things about him. He's supposed to be a bit of a maniac and a flirt, though he actually strikes me as quite okay.”

”He is good,” Tosh answered. ”Military man, you could say, born leader, a bit eccentric. Definitely a flirt and not just towards women. A bit crazy, but actually a good guy. A good friend.” 

Jamie sighed. ”I wish I could say the same about my boss.”

”If you don't like it there, why are you staying?”

”Torchwood One is gone. Where else would I go? The pay is grand, too, so I can't really complain.” He looked around, out the windows towards the main Hub. ”I would come here, though, immediately, if I could. Any space on the team?”

Tosh laughed. ”Personally, I think we could do with more people, but Jack doesn't quite see it that way and he's stubborn.”

”A shame,” Jamie said. ”I think I would enjoy working with you.” He blushed. ”Here! Working _here_ , I meant to say. I didn't want to ...” He rolled his eyes and ducked his head, muttering, ”Big mouth.” 

Tosh smiled. 

”Always got me into trouble,” Jamie explained, looking up at her. ”I never learn.” His expression was solemn, almost sad, and Tosh had suddenly the feeling that they'd veered into dangerous territory. 

She reached out and squeezed his hand. ”All right?”

Jamie visibly shook himself. ”'Course,” he answered, taking his hand away. ”Let's just … we should get to work.”

***

“Are you all right?” Ianto asked hesitantly. ”You're very quiet.”

Jack glared at his dinner, then around at the people milling too close to their table. The restaurant was Italian, the atmosphere relaxed. All tables were taken, some people already waiting at the door to be seated as soon as other customers would leave. Jack had taken Ianto here for dinner instead to one of the pubs around Torchwood Two, wanting to treat him to something a little more up scale. He put down his cutlery, giving up the pretence of eating. ”Am I?”

Ianto sipped his beer. ”Yes.” He looked a little better following his afternoon nap and a shower, dressed casually in a red jumper and jeans. 

Jack wanted to be alone with him, undress him and forget about the whole miserable situation they were in, but UNIT was in Archie's house and Jack refused to back down and go to a hotel, so this had to be their private time. Their escape. Only, it wasn't working. He grimaced. ”You need to ask whether I'm all right? How I feel? Can't you just read my emotions and leave me alone?” He regretted his words a moment later. Snapping at Ianto was the last thing he'd wanted to do but the talk with Ronson had left him more than a little rattled. Everything was spinning out of control and he couldn't see a way to stop it. 

Ianto's hand on his pulled him back to reality, the cool fingers squeezing his gently, and he felt a wave of calm crashing over him, stilling his racing thoughts. ”I am,” Ianto said. ”I am reading you. Talking about it might help you, though.” He shrugged. ”And I'm curious about what Ronson said, to be honest. Can't read that.”

Jack looked at Ianto's empty plate and half-empty pint and got up. ”I want to leave.” He signed the waitress and put enough money on the table, leaving a generous tip.

”You have barely eaten anything,” Ianto replied.

”We didn't come here for my benefit.” Jack held out his hand and Ianto accepted the help in getting up, wincing when he put weight on his leg. He limped a little when he walked, but thankfully, no muscles seemed to have been affected by the injury. Ianto's wounds would heal. Jack couldn't help but feel grateful that Archie had stopped him from following him into the chamber and he felt guilty for feeling that way, for being relieved when Archie was dead. For being angry at Archie's secrets. 

For being afraid of what else he didn't know and would find out.

The cool night air caused Jack to huddle into his coat a bit and he pulled Ianto close with an arm around his waist. 

”Are you seducing me?” Ianto asked, fumbling the zip on his jacket closed. Then he smiled at him. ”You're ticking all the boxes.”

Jack bit his lip. ”Is it working?”

Ianto shrugged. ”I might put out. You never know.”

”You will.”

”Awfully self-confident.”

Jack chuckled and stopped, turning a bit to face Ianto. ”You forget that I know you. I know exactly which buttons to push.” He pressed his lips against Ianto's, deepening the kiss immediately and wrapping his arms around him to pull him close. Ianto hummed against Jack's lips and then chuckled. Jack frowned. ”What's so funny?” 

”A house full of soldiers.”

”Sounds like fun.”

”Or the world's most effective chaperone.”

Jack smiled and cupped Ianto's cheek, kissing him lightly. ”I'm not bothered. Are you?”

Ianto licked his lips. ”You will have to find out.” He sighed deeply, his expression sobering. His hand entwined with Jack's and they walked on slowly. ”What did Ronson want to talk about?”

Jack ducked his head, staring at the pavement, the lights of the street lamps reflecting in the puddles. He gave a sigh. ”She's a Reaper.”

Ianto faltered in his steps for a moment. ”A … a Reaper?”

”Guardians of timelines.”

”I know what they are. I didn't know they can take human form.”

”Seems like we don't know anything about them,” Jack replied and huffed a breath. ”We never knew much to begin with to be honest. The Reapers are even more mysterious than the Time Lords.”

”So Ronson is one of them,” Ianto said slowly, pulling his shoulders up against the cold. 

”And Archie, too, if Ronson is to be believed.” 

Ianto stopped walking, staring at Jack, his blue eyes wide. ”Are you sure she's telling the truth?”

”I don't know why she should be lying.”

”Let's try this question the other way around: Why should she tell you something like this at all after Archie kept it a secret for so long?”

Jack shook his head. ”Because she wants my help. Archie did something for the Reapers here on Earth. He kept their children safe. She wants me to take over.”

Ianto frowned. "But you're leaving. When the Doctor comes, you'll go."

Jack closed his eyes and pulled Ianto into a small alley. "I may have considered not to."

Ianto stared at him. "What? No!"

"Ianto-" 

"Jack! You waited too long for this. You've always said you'll leave. I mean what ... what changed?"

"You!” Jack cupped Ianto's face with both his hands, pulling him closer. “All of you. The last few months were a struggle and I know I said I would prepare you for me leaving and I am. I won't stop. I'm just considering ... staying."

Ianto shook his head. "Please don't."

”This team means the world to me. I considered staying for good before, this isn't the first time. I considered staying when I was with Matthew or Theresa. Fifty years more or less won't make a difference for me."

"You have to go," Ianto insisted, taking a step back and leaning against the wall. "You've waited too long for this. Far too long. You said that you don't really belong here."

Jack shrugged. ”Maybe I was wrong.”

”Jack, this is the universe we're talking about. You, travelling, exploring and discovering it. It's what you were _born_ to do.”

”Do you _want_ me to leave?” Jack asked angrily.

”No!” Ianto pulled him into a tight hug, muttering in his ear, ”No, Jack. I want you to stay, but this isn't about me. It's about you and this world isn't enough for you.”

Jack pulled back a bit to stare at him. ”This world is doing just fine right now.”

Ianto's thumb brushed over Jack's cheekbone. ”Jack ...”

”Ronson said that Archie chose the Doctor's companions from Earth. That they were always what the Doctor needed.” He swallowed. ”He did the same for me.”

”He also told you to go after the Doctor, didn't he?” Ianto asked. 

Jack nodded.

”Was he ever wrong when it came to your companions?”

Jack thought of Theresa, Matthew, Estelle, all the others he'd loved and lost. He looked at Ianto earnestly. ”No.” 

”How can he be wrong about the Doctor then? And what if you are exactly what the Doctor needs? Wouldn't that be more important?”

Jack pulled a face but he gave a short nod.

”Yeah?” Ianto asked.

”Yes.” 

”Good.”

”I'll come back, though.”

”You'll have to leave first to be able to do that.”

Jack smiled sadly. ”Ianto Jones,” he said taking his hand, ”I'm glad you're alive.”

Ianto squeezed his fingers. ”I just wish it wouldn't have meant Archie's death.”

”I'm sure he knew what he was doing,” Jack said. He pressed his lips against Ianto's, chastely. ”He was a Reaper after all and if they know one thing, it's that timelines ...” He froze, an idea occurring that turned into dawning horror. 

Ianto frowned at him. ”Jack?”

He shook himself. ”What?” 

”Are you all right?”

Jack swallowed and forced himself to calm down. ”Yes, sure, just … remembered something.” He shook his head. ”It's not important. Let's get you to bed.” He put his arm around Ianto's shoulder when they walked on, anchoring him to his side tightly. If Ianto noticed that Jack looked around them more than was strictly necessary, he didn't mention it.

***

“How is that possible?” Gwen asked.

Owen took a step back from Michael, keeping his gun trained on him. 

Michael smiled and raised his hands placatingly. ”It's simpler than you probably think.”

Owen said, ”It's a trick.”

Michael grimaced. ”Not _that_ simple. I'm a clone. I'm an exact copy of my father's DNA. Test me.” 

Gwen stared at him. There was no denying that he looked exactly like his father. He was short, green eyes, dark curly hair that he wore a bit shorter than Matthew. His boyish features were handsome, his smile honest. The only differences she could make out were in the way he held himself, in his clothes, his gestures.

”Prove it,” Owen said. 

Michael swallowed. ”Well … uh … I don't know what to say other than: I'm a clone. Test me.”

Gwen shook her head. ”How can you look so young? If you're really Michael, how come you're not over 70 years old?”

”Technically, I am,” he answered. ”It's just that I was adopted by a Reaper and now I age more slowly. Neat side-effect: I can look into your pasts.”

Owen scoffed. ”All you need to do that is Facebook.”

Michael frowned. ”That's kind of insulting.”

”Well, excuse me, but I don't see why we should trust your word that you are who you claim to be. And if you say one more time that I should test you, I will smack you. Tests can be faked. I want you to prove it.”

”You were bullied by an older boy living next door for about three months after he saw you kissing your first boyfriend,” Michael said. ”You didn't put that on Facebook.”

Owen's jaw clenched and Gwen saw his fingers tighten around the gun. ”You did your research.” 

Michael looked at Gwen. ”You got a dollhouse for your fifth birthday. You would have preferred a bike.” 

Owen snorted and Gwen shot him a glare. 

Michael bit his lip. ”My father vanished seventy years ago but he only died a few months ago. You never told anyone besides that journalist. There was no report. No paper trail. Just … a drawer with his body.” He squared his shoulders. ”I was taken from my dad after my father went missing. Archie McIntyre brought me here and the woman who raised his daughter took me in. His daughter was already half-Reaper, of course, but Archie decided fifty years ago to adopt me, which made me half-Reaper as well.”

”Wait a moment,” Owen said. ”Archie's a Reaper?”

Gwen asked, ”What's a Reaper?”

”Well, kind of a time police,” Owen answered. ”At least that's what I gathered from what Jack said about them.” 

Michael nodded. ”I age a lot more slowly and I can see the timelines of everyone I touch. Also those of people I didn't touch but those are a bit more … well, blurry, you might say.”

Gwen frowned. ”I didn't touch you. Just now, only Owen touched you. So how can you see my past that clearly?” 

Michael smiled. ”You held me once when I was a baby.” He leaned back against the door. ”The emergency signal brought you here. I can tell you that the Rift origin has calmed but we don't know either what caused the disturbance.” 

Owen finally lowered the gun. ”'We'?”

”I think you should meet the others,” Michael answered and then, as if remembering something, he said, ”Oh! I think I'm in trouble now.”


	11. Chapter 11

**11.**

 

Tosh left Jamie to his calculations when her mobile rang and Jack's name flashed on the display. She stepped out of the boardroom to take the call in private, knowing that Jack would have phoned the landline if he'd wanted Jamie to listen in. ”Hi,” she said, crossing one arm over her chest and glancing back at Jamie, who was still engrossed in his laptop. ”How's Ianto?” Apart from a short text a few hours ago that Ianto had been fund and was all right, she hadn't heard anything.

 _”He's okay. Are you all right?”_ Jack asked, his voice low.

”I'm fine. Jamie's really sweet, don't worry.”

 _”Good.”_ He breathed out and then he said, _“I was wondering if I should call. It's late.”_

She leaned on the rail of the catwalk, looking down at the main Hub. ”I can't sleep anyway and we're pretty close to finding something that might help us, so ...”

 _”Great. That's great,”_ Jack answered. He sounded distracted, though, not as happy as she thought he would be.

”Is everything okay, Jack?”

_”Yeah, I'm just … trying to keep quiet. Ianto's asleep. I'm staying with him to keep an eye on him.”_

”How are things over there?”

He chuckled bitterly. _”Tense.”_

Tosh swallowed. ”Jack, something's wrong. What is it?”

Jack sighed. _”It's a long story. Tell me if you heard from Gwen and Owen first.”_

”No, not a word. I thought they would check in with you.”

 _”They didn't.”_ Jack was quiet for a long moment. _”We shouldn't worry just yet. They're only scheduled to check in in an hour. See if you can track them, either way.”_

”All right,” Tosh said, hurrying down the winding stairs to the main Hub. ”Sure.” She sat down at her desk and it took her only a few keystroked to call up the signals of Gwen and Owen's mobiles. ”They are in Frankfurt … moving over the river Main at the moment in fact.” She frowned. “That's not exactly near the main station. Maybe they have a lead.”

Jack hummed his consent. _”Okay, give them the hour and then call them. I'll let you know should they get in contact with me but I told them that communication should go via you.”_

Tosh nodded, looking up at the boardroom. ”When are you coming home?”

_”Difficult to say. I need to keep my foot in the door at Torchwood Two, I think. UNIT's a bit too keen to assist us. And I need to take care of some stuff first.”_

She frowned. ”What kind of stuff?” 

There was a pause, then, _”What I tell you now can't reach Wheeler.”_

”Okay,” Tosh replied. 

Jack took a deep breath and then he started talking.

***

Rain was rolling down the panoramic windows, smudging the city lights on the other side of the river. Gwen felt strangely like an intruder, sitting on the comfortable couch in the lounge of what was an apparently quite expensive flat overlooking the Skyline. She kept glancing between Owen, who was standing by the window and staring into the rainy evening, and the brunette woman sitting in the a plush armchair opposite her. All of them tried in vain to ignore the heated conversation happening in the kitchen. Michael and the blonde woman were arguing in German, but there was no doubt in Gwen's mind what about.

The brunette, who'd introduced herself as Christin, cleared her throat and gave an awkward smile. ”Thing is,” she said slowly, brushing a few strands of her short hair out of her forehead, ”Michi wasn't exactly supposed to get in touch with you.”

Gwen nodded. ”I gathered that.”

Christin's blue eyes flickered towards the kitchen door and she winced in sympathy. ”Ariane doesn't mean it like that. She's just … worried. Michi's … well, it's simple, really. He grew up as her younger brother and she's got a protective streak a mile wide.”

”We're not trying to hurt you,” Gwen replied. ”In fact, we're here to check whether you're all right.”

Christin sighed, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body. She was dressed casually, as if they'd interrupted a comfy evening at home. Two glasses of wine on the coffee table were testament to that. There was no doubt in Gwen's mind that Christin and Ariane lived together. Christin got up and crossed her arms. ”Nobody but Archie was supposed to know about us. It was a good system, it worked for decades.” She shook her head. ”We didn't expect ...” 

Gwen bit her lip. By the time Michi had let it slip on their way to the flat that Archie was dead, she had already suspected as much. Knowing how much Archie had meant to Jack, she really hoped that he was all right. 

Christin huffed a short laugh. ”We should have expected this. Michi has always been kind of a wild card.”

Owen turned around to them, leaning against the window. ”How do you mean?”

”Well, all across the world, there's about fifty Reaper children – adopted and biological. The adopted children have human parents they grew up with before a Reaper gave them the power to look through the veil. The biological children are half-Reaper, most of them never even saw their Reaper parents, but at least they grew up with their human parent.”

Gwen understood. ”And Michael didn't.”

Christin nodded. ”He always knew that Ariane's mother wasn't his real mother. Archie never made a secret out of who his parents are and as soon as he was adopted by Archie, Michi started to look up his parents' timelines to learn something about them. He just didn't know when to stop. He learned everything there was to know about them.” She shrugged. ”He followed his father from afar for the last fifty years.”

The door to the kitchen opened and Ariane strode into into the lounge. She'd put her curly hair up into an untidy bun, her dark eyes glowering at Gwen and Owen. While Christin was short, slim and fine-featured, Ariane was taller and carried herself with a self-confidence that pulled attention to her immediately. She had a round, friendly face but the dark look she wore at the moment told Gwen hat she wasn't to be messed with. ”Right … what's done is done I guess.” She glanced back at Michael, who entered the lounge behind her, keeping close to the door. He looked thoroughly chastened but not overly guilty. If Gwen hadn't known any better, she could have sworn that he'd inherited Jack's stubborn expression. Ariane nodded to herself and walked towards Gwen, reaching out a hand. ”I'm sure you understand the necessity.” 

Gwen, already reflexively reaching out, realized then that Ariane wasn't offering a handshake. She started to pull her hand back automatically, but stopped herself. 

Ariane smiled, her grip warm and tight. ”Yes,” she said, holding her hand out to Owen next. 

He frowned but stepped closer, letting her take it. 

After a moment, she nodded and enclosed his hand in both of hers briefly before stepping away. ”I'm Ariane Weber, Archie McIntyre's daughter. You know my brother Michael. And this,” she put an arm around Christin's shoulders and pulled her close, ”is my wife Christin Weber.”

Owen raised his eyebrows. ”I'm Owen, that's Gwen but you already know that. So … do you want to tell us why you have half of Earth's Rift origins under your control?”

Ariane looked at him calmly. ”We're watching them.”

Gwen asked, ”Like UNIT?”

Ariane chuckled bitterly. ”Yes, but certainly not _with_ them. Archie didn't think it would be a good idea to let UNIT have control over all the Rift origins, so he cheated when he looked for them back then. He gave UNIT almost half of the origins, like he was supposed to, kept one for himself and hid the other half for us to watch.”

Owen dropped onto the couch. ”So, the three of you are watching origins of the Rifts all over the world?”

Christin chuckled. ”No. The three of us are watching the one in Germany. There are more of us around the world, watching the others.”

Gwen sat next to Owen. ”You said fifty Reaper children are on Earth right now?”

Christin nodded. ”Approximately. Archie helped us find them.” 

”To what end? Why are you watching the origins?”

Michael cleared his throat and stepped closer. ”We don't know. We can't see. Archie could. All he ever told us is that something is coming. Something dark.” He exchanged an uneasy glance with Ariane and Christin. “It would break time and we're supposed to look out for it and warn him should it happen.” 

Owen smiled tightly. ”A lot of good that's doing us now.”

Ariane glared at him, but before she could answer, Christin put a calming hand on her arm and said, ”That's right, something's hurting time already. We can feel it like a sickness, nausea … nightmares.” 

Gwen bit her lip. ”You think the quakes are the reason.”

Ariane shook her head. ”They're a symptom,” she replied. ”The quakes are only the beginning.”

***

Jack kept watch. 

Sitting upright in the bed of the guest room Archie had given Ianto, with Ianto's head pillowed on his thigh and his hand on Ianto's neck, feeling his pulse, he waited. The night threw long shadows through the windows, the street lamps cold light sketching the room's outlines. Ianto's breathing was calm and deep in sleep, his body relaxed under the covers. 

Jack couldn't sleep. He couldn't even close his eyes and rest. There was no doubt in his mind that Ronson would act. That she would come and kill Ianto, just because Archie had saved his life. He couldn't even really blame her. Reapers did what they had to to make right what went wrong with time and in the moment Archie had decided to help Ianto survive, he might have decided something that was wrong. Maybe Ianto had been supposed to die. 

To a certain extent – as a former Time Agent – Jack understood Ronson. He knew it was important to fix time, to make sure that it ran smoothly, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. 

He just wondered why she'd held back so long already. 

Too many witnesses? Unlikely. 

Sympathy? Impossible. 

Jack's presence? He couldn't think of a reason why that would be bothersome to someone like Ronson. To a Reaper. 

The door to the bedroom opened, Ronson's slim frame backlit by the weak lights of the hallway. Jack's hand tightened around his Webley. It wouldn't do much good, he knew but he would do everything he could to prevent what was quite possibly happening next. Ronson looked at him for a long moment, her dark eyes flitting to Ianto and back up to Jack, then she signalled him to step outside and left. 

Jack frowned, sceptical. Nevertheless, he got up carefully and followed Ronson, keeping the door ajar and one eye on Ianto.

”I'm not going to kill him,” Ronson said as soon as Jack had left the bedroom. She reached out and wanted to pull the door closed, but Jack prevented her from doing so, shaking his head. Ronson sighed. ”We never lie. That is beneath us.” She raised one eyebrow. ”Why would I lie to you? I could stop his heart with a snap of my fingers. I wouldn't even have to be in the same room. As honourable as your vigilance is, Captain, it's also quite useless.”

Angrily, Jack closed the bedroom door. ”Do you think I'm stupid?” he hissed, stepping towards Ronson and towering over her. ”It might have taken me a while to make the connection but now I know why you're here.” 

”You have no idea why I'm here, son,” Ronson answered.

”You're here to kill Ianto, aren't you?”

She frowned. ”Why would I want to do that?”

”Because Archie saved his life but he shouldn't have. He isn't allowed to interfere with Ianto's life that much. What needs to die, has to die, isn't that the rule? And Ianto's not dead.”

”No, he isn't,” Ronson answered. ”Archie is.” She took a deep breath and crossed her arms. ”Normally, when someone does what Archie did – influence time by allowing someone to live who shouldn't have – we would interfere immediately, but this is one of us. Archie didn't just help, he _sacrificed_ himself for that child and I need to know why before I decide what needs to be done. I need Archie's body for that. As long as I don't get an answer, Ianto lives. It's borrowed time, though. He might still die.”

Jack swallowed. ”He might not. Archie must have had a reason.”

”The question is whether that reason was valid. Archie was very taken by you. He loved you like a son and though we are very powerful, we also can suffer from impaired judgement when it's about someone we love. He already displayed this impaired judgement towards you once, doing something we didn't agree with, but he found a way. I'm here to make sure his death and Ianto's survival didn't happen just out of the same sentimentality.” She sighed crossed her arms. ”Until then, you can rest easy. I won't harm him.”

Jack took a step back. ”You came to tell me that?”

”Yes, actually. Things will start to get very confusing and surprising very soon. I need to make sure that you remember what you promised me.”

Jack put his hands on his hips. ”The Reaper children?”

She nodded and fixed him with a pleading look. ”They need your protection, Jack, but you also need them. Whatever happens concerning Ianto, don't make their lives dependant on that. And please don't be angry with Archie, and by extension, them. He meant well.”

Jack felt himself blanch. The knot in his stomach became bigger and he felt like breathing became more difficult. More secrets … he should have known. ”Angry?” 

Ronson put a hand on his arm, lowering her voice. ”He kept secrets, Jack. Secrets concerning you directly.”

Jack shook his head. ”He betrayed me, didn't he? He did something … something bad.”

Ronson shook her head sadly. “That depends entirely on your definition of bad, Jack.”

He narrowed his eyes, hating the way she spoke in riddles. ”Right,” he said angrily, just when his mobile started to ring. ”Be that way then.” He returned to the bedroom and closed the door, picking up the phone. ”Tosh?” he asked softly and – despite Ronson's words – checked Ianto's breathing.

 _”I've got Gwen and Owen calling in via video conference,”_ Tosh said. 

Jack opened Ianto's laptop on the desk, sitting in the chair carefully. He didn't need long to establish the link. Pretty soon, he was looking at Tosh's earnest face on the screen, her tired eyes flittering away from the screen every now and again, probably watching out for Jamie. Jack nodded at her. ”All right?”

 _”Fine. Jack ...,”_ Tosh said and stopped, taking a deep breath. _”What they found is ...”_ She swallowed, her eyes darting to the side furtively. 

Jack lowered the volume of the laptop and disconnected the call on the mobile. ”Tosh?” She looked at him and he gave her a smile. ”Let's get started already. It can't be that bad.”

_”It's not bad exactly, just-”_

”Tosh,” he interrupted her gently. She sighed and tapped a few keys, then a third window opened and Jack saw Gwen and Owen crowded in front of a laptop screen. And next to Gwen … Jack's breath caught. It was impossible, so very impossible ...

 _“Jack,”_ Gwen said, _”it's really Michael.”_

Jack slammed the laptop shut. He gasped, feeling his chest tighten. The room felt too small around him, the walls closing in. He stumbled to his feet clumsily and out of the room, down the stairs, hearing his mobile ring where he'd left it behind on the desk … but he didn't care. Not right now. Not in this situation, not … he left Torchwood Two, revelling in the icy wind caressing his face and leaned against the wall a few houses down. 

Breathing. 

Not only had Archie lied to him about not knowing where Michael was. He'd also concealed the fact that Michael was still young, was still available … that Jack could still be a father. Seventy years and not once … not even once … 

Jack closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall and sank to the ground. 

He didn't know how long he sat there when a warm hand touched his cheek. It felt hot against his skin and Jack slowly opened his eyes, finding Ianto crouched in front of him. ”Jack,” he said softly. He held out the mobile. The ringing had woken him, of course. And Jack felt stupid and inconsiderate, because Ianto needed his sleep and he'd left his ringing mobile behind. Ianto shook his head. ”He wants to talk to you.” Ianto knew. Of course he did. 

Jack felt calm slip over him, gently slowing his heart rate. Ianto's empathy was a controlled force now, a gift. A tool of power. 

His mobile showed him that he was connected with Gwen's phone. He shook his head. Too scared. He'd given up on Michael, hadn't he? Had them let him be taken away. How would he be able to talk to him? 

”Come on, Jack,” Ianto said and positioned himself next to him, huddled against the cold brickstone and asphalt. He took his hand and kissed his cheek and then pressed the mobile into his palm. ”It's okay.”

Jack took the phone but grasped for Ianto with his other hand, holding onto him while he raised the mobile to his ear. He exhaled. ”Michael?” 

_”Hey, dad,”_ he answered and it felt overwhelming, the way he seemed not bothered by using the term. He sounded like Matthew, the man Jack had failed so many years and then again a few months ago.

Tears entered Jack's eyes. ”Michael,” he repeated. ”I ...”

 _”It's all right,”_ Michael said gently and Ianto squeezed his hand. _”It's not your fault.”_ He paused, then he whispered, _”I love you.”_

Jack shook his head. ”You don't even know me.”

Michael laughed, but it sounded sad. _”Believe me, dad … I know everything about you. I watched you ever since I learned how to do it.”_

Jack shook his head, wished he hadn't heard that, wished he'd been a better man …

_”I watched you for fifty years. I looked at the life you led before. I've seen it all. I know you.”_

”I wish I could say the same about you.”

 _”Circumstances,”_ Michael replied. _”They don't matter, though. Not anymore. We'll catch up. First, we should save the world, though, don't you think?”_

Jack chuckled and kissed Ianto's back of the hand, cradling it against his lips. ”Yes. Yes, we should.”


	12. Chapter 12

**12.**

 

It had started to rain and the drops were turning into little balls of ice in the frigid night air, clinking against the window of the guest room in Archie's house where Jack and Ianto sat in front of the laptop. Tosh was tapping away on her side of the video chat but it wasn't her Jack's attention was on. It wasn't Gwen and Owen crowded around a computer in Germany with Archie's daughter and her wife, either. His attention was on Michael, sitting next to Gwen with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands and his eyes focussed on something off to the side. 

Jack knew there were other things to focus on, more important things vying for his attention. But all he could see was that Michael wore the same expression Matthew had shown whenever he was sad or thinking hard about something. Mostly just before he admitted or asked something that made him feel inadequate or uneducated. 

Then Michael blinked and seemed to focus on the present, sipping his coffee and smiling at Jack in a way that Matthew almost never had, self-conscious as he'd been … and would Jack ever stop comparing them to one another? Michael was a clone of his father, an exact copy, but he'd been raised differently, had lived a different life, had become a different person … it would be easier had Jack been a witness to all that. Like this, it was hard. Part of him resented Archie for keeping Michael a secret. 

Ianto's knee brushing his pulled him out of his thoughts, a sign to listen they had used during UNIT conferences before. Ianto nodded at something Ariane had said. “The files state that in 1956, it became apparent that not only was Earth split into several Rifts, but they also had starting points. UNIT was looking for an expert to find these sources to establish teams for observation.” 

Ariane rubbed her eyes tiredly. It was the middle of the night for all of them. _”It was a joint UNIT and Torchwood project and the choice for Archie as the leader was easy, apparently. He showed a lot of knowledge about Rifts.”_

 _”'course he did,”_ Owen muttered and stretched. _”Good old Archie knew a lot of things about everything.”_

Jack cleared his throat. ”So Archie's team found five Rift sources, but that's not the whole story. Tell me what really happened in '56?”

 _”What he told you and wrote into his official report,”_ Ariane answered. _”It's pretty much true. He only left out details.”_

 _”Like five more Rift sources?”_ Owen asked with raised eyebrows. 

Ariane shot him a look. _”He didn't trust UNIT or Torchwood to be responsible, so he didn't give them all the information. Anyway,”_ she turned to look at Jack again, _”my father fell in love with a German woman back in the 20s. I was born. My abilities manifested when I was thirty-three, which is why I keep this form. Michael came to us in 1933.”_

Michael nodded. _”Archie brought me here and forged some papers. I became Ariane's brother. Archie adopted me when I was twenty-two.”_

Tosh frowned at the camera. _”What is that adoption business about?”_

Christin said, _”Reapers are able to choose children and give them the abilities of their own half-blood. It's a very important decision to adopt. It comes with a lot of responsibility for both parent and child, which is why it's almost never done.”_

Ariane nodded. _”Adopted children have the same abilities as half-bloods. We can all look into the past, not into the future like Reapers, though. We can't travel through time, but we have a long life-span. Archie spent much of his life finding Reaper children and adopted children all over the world. He pulled us together.”_

Jack raised an eyebrow. _”To do what?”_

_”UNIT had half the Rift ends under their control. Archie didn't trust them. Or Torchwood.”_

Christin shrugged. _”Basically,”_ she said, _”we don't do anything. We're not even with the Rift source most of the time. It's an easy enough job. Or it was. These quakes ...”_

Michael nodded earnestly. _”They alarmed us and we were told by Archie to keep an eye out for alarming occurrences. I guess he didn't expect this, though.”_

Ariane brushed her blond curls behind her ears. _”We don't know what we're facing but it's clearly more powerful than anything I've ever heard about … and I've seen Archie's life.”_

Owen smiled grimly. _”Let's summarise: Rift quakes in all five Rifts spanning Earth at the same time, a Reaper didn't see it coming and neither UNIT nor Torchwood – who both have been in the business for a while – have even the slightest clue what happened there?”_ He leaned back in his chair. _”Sounds like we're screwed.”_

***

The fire crackling in the fireplace was the only source of light in the crammed lounge of Archie's flat, its flames illuminating books stacked tightly together in the shelves. Jack was sitting close enough that its warmth was burning on his cheeks and in his eyes. The chair opposite his was painfully empty, the quiet in the house oppressing. Only occasionally, the low voices of the UNIT night shift downstairs filtered upstairs. Ianto was asleep, catching the last few hours of the night in the guest room after Jack had ordered all of them to get some rest. He couldn't sleep himself, had too many thoughts and theories running through his head, keeping him busy. 

He was lost in thought so deeply, in fact, that he didn't hear Captain Houghton enter until he settled into Archie's chair with a deep sigh. He looked unusually casual, his blond hair mussed slightly from running his hands through them. He'd opened the green uniform jacket and popped the top buttons of the dress shirt underneath. Jack narrowed his eyes when Houghton held up a bottle of Scotch and two glasses with a smile. ”Let's share.” 

”You drink on duty?” Jack asked, but accepted the glass.

”I'm technically not on duty,” Houghton answered with a smirk, pouring the Scotch. ”My 2IC is.”

”You should be sleeping then.”

”You, too.” Houghton settled back into the chair. ”And yet, you are here.”

”I don't sleep much.” 

Houghton gave a bitter smile. ”Men in charge rarely do.” He took a sip and sighed. ”Do you think that the scientists will have something for us soon?”

”Tosh is good,” Jack answered. ”Very good.”

”Is that a yes?”

”I think her and Dr. Wheeler have things under control.”

Houghton chuckled. ”Your girl maybe. I only hear good things about her.”

Jack frowned, staring into his glass. ”I only heard good things about Wheeler.”

”He's unfocussed, nervous.”

Jack remembered the way Wheeler seemed to hunch his shoulders around Houghton's father. He looked up at Houghton, catching his dark eyes. ”Maybe he has reason to be.”

Houghton's lips pulled up into a tight smile. ”He never had reason to be. He's always been like that.”

”You know him well?”

”My father married his mother over ten years ago.”

Jack's eyes widened in surprise. ”You're brothers.”

Houghton sighed, as if he would have preferred that Jack didn't know. ”Step-brothers. Yes.” He sipped his Scotch. ”He kept his dad's name. Stubborn little prat.” He shrugged. ”I have to admit, though, he is brilliant. My dad doesn't see it, really, but I do. All it would take is for him to learn and focus and he would be unstoppable.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes. ”Maybe he needs a team leader who can help him to learn that.” 

Houghton scoffed. ”I get what you're implying, but my father is a great team leader.”

”If you say so.”

”You don't believe me?”

”He doesn't respect Wheeler. The trick, as a leader, is to respect them,” Jack replied. ”Tell them when they're wrong, praise them when they're right. They're adults under your lead, not children you need to raise. They will always make their own decisions, but by being a good leader, those decisions will be good for you, too.” 

Houghton smiled, almost indulgently. ”I made Captain. You think I don't know how to lead?”

”Just like your father, you know how to lead _soldiers_. There's a difference between soldiers and civilians. Pull rank on a soldier, they'll back down or get disciplined if they don't. Pull rank on a civilian, they might just laugh into your face. Be honest. They know when you're not.”

Houghton scowled at him. ”I'm always honest.”

”Really? Just now, you aren't.” Jack leaned back in his chair. “You ruffled your hair outside the door, loosened your collar and unbuttoned your jacket to seem more approachable and casual, because you think that I'm not a military man anymore. You also know that I have a varied taste in partners and the way your hair looks is probably the way you style it when you're out on the pull, another way to manipulate me into becoming more pliant, getting me to think I might stand a chance with you. You brought a new bottle Scotch here with two glasses. You expected me to be here, to offer me a drink and loosen my tongue. You didn't stumble upon my by accident.” 

Houghton stared at him for a long moment, then he chuckled and sat up a little straighter. ”It was worth a try.” 

”Better conman have tried and failed,” Jack said with a shrug. ”Don't feel bad.” He raised the glass. ”It's good Scotch, though.”

Houghton raised his glass as well and they both sipped their drinks. It was quiet for a while, only the fire crackling and laughter coming up the stairs. 

”So,” Jack said finally, ”what were you trying to find out by coming here?”

”There's a rumour.”

”I love rumours. They make for great stories.”

Houghton looked at him steadily. ”Answer me one question. Honestly. Did you travel with the Doctor?”

”Yes.” It wasn't a secret. Jack knew that pictures of him might be in UNIT files revolving around the Doctor. ”And I won't talk about it,” he added. 

Houghton hummed thoughtfully. ”You never really talk about yourself, do you?”

Jack smiled. ”I'm a very private person.”

”And a unique leader. Your team … Sato, for example. Brilliant, really. I read her file. If I had been in charge of the operation that got her arrested, she wouldn't have ended up in prison, but in one of our laboratories. We turned her against ourselves, so to say, which is why she ran to you the first chance she got.” He moved his hand in little circles, making the Scotch swirl gently. ”Harper is a very good doctor. I'm told that he's one of the best. I get why you would want him. I don't quite understand your choice in Cooper.”

Jack shrugged. ”She's got potential. I always look for potential.”

”Like Ianto Jones's potential?” Houghton's dark eyes were piercing. “He's a killer.”

”He's an empath learning to cope with his skills.”

Houghton nodded, conceding to the point. ”We could use someone with his skills in our ranks.”

”He might prefer his job with Torchwood.”

”Maybe, but what will he do when Torchwood's gone?” Houghton stared at him earnestly. ”You just said that you're a good leader, so you should be interested in the future of your team.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. ”We're getting to the point of this conversation now, are we?”

”After this assignment, I will get another one. Top secret. I'm recruiting, though.”

”You intend to take my team away by offering them a better future?”

”No,” Houghton answered. ”Not exactly. I'm offering all of you a better future. You will remain in charge of your team and you could recruit as many new people as you like. You would report directly to me.”

Jack couldn't quite contain his curiosity. ”Doing what?”

Houghton grinned. ”Looking for something big.”

”How big?”

Houghton chuckled. ”Very big.”


	13. Chapter 13

**13.**

 

“Oh my God!” Jamie gasped, breaking the silence of the early morning hours. 

Tosh startled slightly and almost spilled some of her coffee. A bit sheepishly, she put the mug down and rubbed her eyes, strained by the harsh neon lamps of the boardroom. She forced herself to pay attention. Two hours of sleep hadn't been enough, but they hadn't been able to afford more. She looked at Jamie, who had brushed his fingers through his hair so much that it stood up in all directions. ”What's wrong?”

He looked away from his laptop screen and up at her, as if he just realized that he wasn't alone in the room. ”Nothing, I … I think I've got it.”

”The location of the Rift disturbance?” she asked incredulously and hurried around the table to look at his screen.

Jamie pointed at his equations. ”I put a whole bunch of filters over the pattern and sought out its origin.”

Tosh gaped and turned his laptop towards her, dropping into the chair next to him. ”Wow, that is impressive maths.”

”Thank you,” Jamie replied with a shy smile, ”but I can't take all the credit. It's based on your Rift prediction programme.”

”I can see that but what you did with it is impressive.”

They smiled at each other, then Jamie shook his head as if to clear it. ”Right! We have to call my boss, let him send a team to the location.”

Tosh peered at the satellite image he'd pulled up, the location of whatever was responsible for the Rift quakes. It looked like a peaceful piece of wood just outside London. ”Frylands Wood?”

”New Addington, near Croydon,” Jamie explained. ”About one hour away from London.”

Tosh noticed that within the red circle pinpointing the source of the disturbance, something grey was peeking out between the trees. ”What is that?”

”UNIT ammunition bunker, no longer in use,” Jamie answered, dialling his mobile. ”Perfect hiding place, isn't it?”

Tosh gave a nod. ”The question is just: What for?”

***

Jack's grief was so thick that Ianto could practically taste it. He kept himself distanced, not giving into the feeling, just letting it burn away on a subconscious level that he'd somehow come to attune to Jack exclusively. Stepping closer to him, he took his hand, entwining their fingers and pressing himself to his side. When he looked down at Archie, he had to swallow against his own grief overwhelming him. Lying on a stretcher UNIT had wheeled into the antiques shop where they would be undisturbed, Archie looked oddly peaceful. There was no wound, no blood, no mark suggesting that he was anything else but fine. 

Just the waxy tone to his skin and his face free of any expression told a different story. 

Jack wiped his eyes with his free hand. ”He always answered my questions,” he stated softly, ”and when I got the most, he just leaves.”

”I'm so sorry, Jack,” Ianto said softly. 

Jack squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. ”Give me a moment?”

”Sure.” He left the shop through the curtain separating it from the base.

Ronson was in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with a thoughtful, sad expression on her face. When Ianto entered, she looked up at him. ”Is it bad?”

Ianto shook his head. ”Not too bad. No … no wounds or anything.” He crossed his arms, suddenly losing his craving for a cup of tea. He hesitated for a moment, but finally felt compelled to say, ”I'm sorry for your loss.”

She gave a gentle smile. ”Thank you.” Stepping closer to him, she added, ”It's funny. We're powerful, but when we take a certain form, we inherit its flaws. There's only one thing we never do and that's age.”

Ianto stepped closer to her, his curiosity peaked. ”Apparently, there was an accident in the 30s that caused Archie to age slower?”

Ronson chuckled. ”Whatever vortex energy he soaked up in that accident would barely make a difference to his lifespan. We are filled to the brim with vortex energy.” She looked towards the curtain at the far side of the room. ”I guess it made a good excuse to explain away the fact he didn't age.”

”Possibly,” Ianto said. He took a breath. ”I'll go upstairs to work for a bit. Would you let Jack know?”

”Of course. I'll stay and wait my turn.”

Ianto nodded and started for the stairs, but Ronson stopped him by calling his name. He turned around.

"You love him," she said. 

Ianto swallowed and gave a tilt of his head to imply a nod. Her words had been a statement, not a question. There was no point in lying to someone like her.

"How much?"

"Very much." He hesitated, wondering if he would be too forward, but then decided against being polite.”Why do you ask? You must know just by looking at me.”

Ronson's smile was indulgent, her dark eyes warm. "Child, I can only see your actions, not the motivation behind them.” She sighed deeply. “He is what we call a fixed point in time. He will be there for a very long time to come. Not always like you know him now, but in different forms and in company of different people. Loving him is like loving time itself. He's steady and never-changing. You will die."

Ianto swallowed, dread forming a knot in his stomach. "I know."

"Archie saved your life. He did so for a reason. The reason might be him."

"It seems fitting, since without him, I'd be dead."

Ronson looked at him for a long moment. "You would die for him."

"Yes."

She smiled as if he'd said something silly. "Some people might find this foolish, considering he would get up ... and you wouldn't."

Ianto lifted his chin defiantly. "He shouldn't have to endure the pain of returning."

Her smile widened, became gentle and encouraging. "Thank you, Ianto. For being honest."

He nodded, then he went upstairs. For a minute, he stood in his room, undecided. He wasn't even sure he wanted to work as he'd said. If he was completely honest, mainly, he'd wanted to get away from Ronson. She scared him a bit. He felt bad, knowing she didn't mean any harm, but the way she looked at him felt piercing and knowing that she could see into his past as well as his future unsettled him. 

He sat at the desk and opened the laptop, waking it from stand-by and then staring at the Torchwood logo rotating above the field asking for his password. 

The door opened and closed and when Ianto turned around, Jack was standing leaning against it with closed eyes.

”All right?” he asked softly. There was anger simmering under the surface of Jack's grief, he could feel it like a wave crashing over him and he'd never been more grateful for the training he had received than in this moment. 

Jack shook his head. 

Ianto stood and walked over to him, kissing his lips gently. ”It's okay to be angry,” he said softly, putting one hand on the back of Jack's head and playing with the short hairs there. 

Jack sighed. "I know. I just wonder why he did it. Why did he keep it a secret for all these years? Nothing stopped him from telling me about Michael later on."

"We might never know why he kept him from you," Ianto said. “But it might just have been a decision made out of necessity.” 

Jack looked at him for a long moment, then he shook his head and gave a sigh. "Ronson mentioned talking to you."

"Yes, just shortly."

"What about?"

Ianto smiled. "You, actually." 

Jack returned his smile with a slowly growing grin. "Yeah?"

Ianto nodded. "She asked about my feelings for you."

Jack pulled him closer. "The ones we talk about? Or the ones we don't?"

Ianto's fingers tangled in Jack's braces, pulling them down to stretch across his chest. "Which ones do we ever talk about?"

As an answer, Jack settled his hands on Ianto's hips and kissed him. "The dirty ones," he whispered.

Ianto smirked. "I wouldn't call that talking." 

Jack chuckled but Ianto could still feel his sadness beneath the teasing and the affection. He wrapped his arms around him in a hug and was relieved when Jack returned it. His grip was tight around Ianto's chest and hips and his breath brushed the skin of Ianto's neck where he'd tucked his face. He breathed in deeply and Ianto felt how he raised his head a bit to press a kiss to his neck. "I miss you," he said, softly as if he didn't even want Ianto to hear. 

He smelled intoxicating, this close ... just as usual. And it had been too long. Arousal curled in Ianto's belly - Jack's as well as his own - and he swallowed. He'd half-expected this. Jack was always looking for life when he encountered the death of people he loved. As if he needed to reassure himself that he was real and here and not alone. That he was loved. Ianto turned into the embrace a little more and softly answered, "I miss you, too." It was true. Despite everything, Jack was the only person Ianto trusted so completely. He'd always had trouble forming deep bonds, but Jack made it easier, somehow. He kept his secrets and there were things Ianto would probably never know about him, but Jack cared about them – about him – and that was all the truth he needed.

”Ianto,” Jack whispered. It was a question and a plea and a seduction. 

And Ianto didn't really care much about the soldiers downstairs or the thin walls or Ronson.

He reached out and turned the key in the lock. ”Yes,” he answered. ”Yes.”

***

Colonel Houghton sounded grim over the phone and Jamie – sitting huddled in a chair of the boardroom opposite Tosh – looked ready to run. He remained seated, though, his posture stiffening when Houghton's voice came through the conference phone, _“The building's empty.”_

Jamie shook his head, brushing a nervous hand through his hair. "That can't be. Did you check properly?"

 _"Excuse me?"_ Houghton asked, his voice becoming dangerously low. _"What did you just ask me?"_

Jamie's fingers tightened around the pen he was holding and he pulled his shoulders up. 

Tosh felt sympathy for him and intervened, "What he meant to ask was whether there were any readings to be found, even if physically nobody was present." 

Houghton huffed a breath. _"Yes. I'll have my Lieutenant send them to you."_

"Thank you." 

Jamie leaned forward. "What did you find? Anything would help."

Houghton paused for a moment and gave a muffled order to someone, then he said, _"Well, I'm standing here in the main storage room. It's empty, just like the rest of the bunker, but ... there are marks on the floor."_

Tosh and Jamie exchanged a look and Jamie asked, "What kind of marks?"

_"Remember how your mother got angry about the wardrobe you and Alex moved when you were children?"_

Tosh's eyes widened in surprise at the implications of Houghton's words and Jamie blushed, avoiding her eyes by staring at his laptop. "Because the floor got scratched."

_"That kind of marks."_

Tosh cleared her throat, filing what she'd learned away mentally to ask Jamie later. "Something heavy was moved." 

_"Yeah ... all the way to the door.”_ Houghton made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a reluctant huff of breath before he admitted, _“You were right. This is the place, but whoever was here is gone."_

"Thank you, Colonel," Tosh said and hung up. ”So,” she said to Jamie, who still wouldn't meet her eyes, ”something heavy was moved.” Her laptop announced the arrival of a new e-mail and she opened it to find the readings Houghton's team had taken in the bunker. She quickly inserted the signal into the search engine of their database and started a search. Torchwood sensors had picked up all kinds of noises over the decades … maybe they would find a match. 

Jamie rubbed his brow and shuffled some print-outs before he softly said, ”He's my step-father.”

”Your last name is Wheeler,” Tosh replied. “I didn't make the connection.”

”I always introduce myself as Jamie Wheeler. My full name's Wheeler-Houghton, though,” Jamie explained. ”My step-father's a jerk, my step-brother is following in his steps. My mom sees nothing wrong with that.”

Tosh bit her lip. ”Why do you let him bully you so much?”

Jamie smiled sadly. ”I love my job.”

She frowned. ”Would your step-father actually fire you for saying what you think?”

Jamie shook his head. ”He's … he's not that much of a jerk. But work is bearable as it is now. I don't want to make it worse. Besides, my mom asked me to be … cooperative and she went through enough with dad dying and ...” He gave a nervous laugh. ”I'm actually a bit of a coward.”

Tosh's computer beeped, bringing them back to the matter at hand. With a comforting smile at Jamie, Tosh turned to the screen. ”We've got a match for the energy signature,” she said. ”It fits with something we picked up two years ago.” She opened the file and froze. ”I remember that date. We went into lockdown due to a malfunction. Turned out that it was more than that, though.” She didn't go into detail, knowing that it would be too hard to explain right now why Jack locked all of them into the Hub. He hadn't told them the truth back then. Tosh had only learned later on that Jack's younger self had been visiting together with the Doctor and Rose and he'd wanted to avoid his team seeing him. “The Rift opened very wide for a short period, almost caved in our roof.” She closed her eyes and braced herself for what she was going to say next. ”That energy signature was emanated by the TARDIS.”

Jamie's eyes widened. ”The Doctor's TARDIS?”

She nodded. 

”But he's Earth's friend. Why would he let his ship cause that much damage?”

Tosh shook her head. ”I don't know.” She took a deep breath. ”But we have to find out before it happens again.”

***

Ianto bit his lip, his legs tightening around Jack's waist and his back arching off the bed. Jack pressed his hand against the small of Ianto's back and his forehead to rest against Ianto's, stilling completely. ”It's okay,” he whispered. ”It's okay.” He felt pain and instinctual fear scatter along his nerves and gasped, the air feeling too warm and thick to breathe, the dim light seemed unusually bright. Ianto's skin was hot under his palms, Ianto's fingers in his hair tugging almost painfully. Jack grimaced and pried them loose gently, entwining their hands and pressing them on the bed. He leaned down, catching Ianto's lips in a gentle kiss, rocking his hips to push forward. 

Ianto's fingers tightened, squeezing Jack's, his other hand scratching down Jack's flank. Jack breathed against the feelings Ianto projected at him, remembering them from so long ago when he had been in the position Ianto was now. He still knew the face of the man he'd been with his first time, even if his name was gone. He remembered the control he'd had, the patience he'd shown, the way he'd smiled at him. He smiled at Ianto as well now and pushed in further.

”Oh God,” Ianto muttered. 

Jack froze, letting him adjust. His lips traced across Ianto's brows and down his cheek to his lips. His eyes closed, his lips a breath away from Ianto's and he focussed on his emotions. ”I forgot,” he whispered.

”Hm,” Ianto uttered, his legs shifting. ”What?” 

Jack looked into his eyes. ”What sex with an empath feels like.”

Ianto chuckled.

Jack slid his hand from Ianto's back to his hip, gripping tight. He pulled back a bit, rolling his hips to slide inside again. Ianto moaned. Jack swallowed the sound with a kiss, going for a deeper thrust. The bed squeaked and Ianto laughed, uttering a reprimanding “sh”. Jack's next thrust made him go still, though, his legs tightening around him, his back arching off the bed, and the wave of warm, arousing, lustful emotions crackling along their connection was almost enough to make Jack come. He thrust again, catching Ianto's moan with his lips and pressing them against Ianto's forehead next to soothe the focussed frown there. He knew he wasn't quite there … almost, though. His grip re-aligned on instinct, his hand on Ianto's hip adjusting just so to raise him a bit, his next thrust going deeper. 

Ianto cried out and slapped a hand across his mouth. Jack smiled against the skin of his neck, biting gently. ”Right there?” he asked, breathing the words into Ianto's ear, groaning when Ianto's fingers found his hair again, tightening painfully.

”Yes,” Ianto panted and he met the next thrust by raising his hips himself, letting out a sound not unlike a sob. ”Oh God,” he whispered. ”Right there. Please.”

Jack obeyed and thrust again, then again, picking up his pace. Their connection thrummed, driving him beyond coherency, because this was far more than it had ever been before, went far deeper. It was more than sex, more than Ianto giving him his virginity, more than the unusually deep understanding they had of each other.

”Jack,” Ianto moaned. ”Jack.” His fingers brushed Jack's jawline, forcing him into another deep kiss. Ianto's orgasm was so close. Jack could feel it right down to his core, could feel his own muscles tightening in reaction. He thrust harder, stopping, holding back, and Ianto came, panting into Jack's mouth, tightening around him and even if they hadn't been connected empathically, Jack doubted that he wouldn't have come right this moment anyway. 

He buried his face in Ianto's neck and thrust a last time, crying out. He slumped, his lips forming Ianto's name against his skin, his hand slowly releasing its death grip on Ianto's hip. Ianto gave a soft moan, his legs falling to the mattress. Jack felt him relax, felt him be flooded with warmth and happiness and a feeling of safety. He closed his eyes and pecked a kiss against Ianto's pulse point, then he raised his body and pulled out, falling to the bed beside Ianto. He turned back towards him immediately, though, seeking his lips in a lazy, messy kiss. His finger trailed along Ianto's reddened cheek, their eyes seeking out each other. 

They had never talked much immediately after sex. Almost as if they'd been waiting for this moment, as if they'd known that Ianto's empathy would help them trade the words they didn't want to utter. Jack was aware that Ianto loved him. Feeling it was something else entirely. He wasn't sure what Ianto felt in return, his heart and soul sometimes feeling so used up after his overly long life that he wasn't sure he could feel deeply anymore … but Ianto smiled. 

He entwined their hands and squeezed.


	14. Chapter 14

**14.**

 

“It's over,” Jack said. ”There's nothing we can do, unless new Rift quakes show?”

The speaker of the phone in Archie's lounge hummed quietly while Tosh and Wheeler seemed to think about that question. Jack caught Ianto's eyes, who was leaning against the wall close to the door, sipping coffee. Captain Houghton stared out the window into the grey February morning with his arms crossed. His face was unreadable and he looked every bit the grim soldier in his green uniform. 

Finally, Tosh said, _”There's nothing we can do. We can only hope that it's over.”_

Houghton turned around sharply. ”It's the TARDIS! How can we not know where it is? People should notice it.” 

Jack brushed a hand through his hair. He still couldn't quite believe what Tosh and Wheeler had told them and yet, it seemed like the most possible answer to their questions. Still, Jack trusted the Doctor and he knew that the Doctor loved Earth. Something must have gone seriously wrong for the TARDIS to be behind the Rift quakes. 

Ianto calmly said, ”Didn't you get briefed on the TARDIS?” 

Houghton put his hands on his hips, glaring at him. 

Ianto shrugged. ”It's got a perception filter. Wherever it is, the most people will do is raise an eyebrow at it. Nobody knows it's a space ship. Nobody will alert anyone.”

Through the loudspeaker, Wheeler added, _”Besides, we assume that it's being hidden by whoever has it. It's probably out of sight again already.”_

Houghton shook his head and sighed deeply. ”This isn't enough. How can we go and tell everyone that there's nothing we can do? This threat is real. We need to know how we can protect ourselves in the future.”

Ianto pushed away from the wall and limped over to him. Jack had already noticed during breakfast that their activities the night before had led to the pain in Ianto's leg flaming up again. Ianto had said that it was fine but his face sometimes got the pinched expression that told Jack he was in pain, even though Ianto seemed to go to a lot of effort to not let him feel it. ”We can't,” he said. ”You can't stop earthquakes, tsunamis or tornados. How do you want to stop this from happening?”

Houghton pressed his lips together, his dark eyes thunderous. ”So what do you suggest we do? I have to report back to my father who has to report to General Pizano. And she's going to have to report to whoever is higher up in the chain of command.” He looked at the phone. “Jamie, give me something we can take away from this. Anything at all.”

It was quiet for along moment, then Wheeler said, _”I can't.”_

Houghton turned away, kicking a sidetable and spilling several books to the floor.

”Watch it!” Jack snapped and got up, approaching Houghton and gripping his arm. He leaned in close and softly said, ”You want to call yourself a leader, you don't ask things of your people they can't deliver.”

Houghton shook him off angrily. ”Don't treat me like a disobedient child!”

”Don't act like one!” Jack replied. He felt a wave of calm come over him and closed his eyes, breathing out. When he opened his eyes again, Houghton's stance had relaxed a bit as well, though he looked mildly confused … until his eyes found Ianto.

”That's not the solution,” Ianto said.

”Stop it,” Houghton said, balling his hands to fist. ”Out of my head!”

Ianto raised his hands. ”I apologise.”

Jack shook his head. ”You shouldn't. You're right.” He turned away from Houghton and sat back down on the couch. 

Houghton crossed his arms and took a deep breath. ”Fine,” he said. ”All right.”

Wheeler's voice sounded insecure when he said, _”I'm sorry. I really am, but ...”_

”It's all right, Dr. Wheeler,” Jack replied. ”Thanks for all your help. Tosh, I'll be in touch.”

_”Okay, Jack.”_

He hung up. 

Houghton lifted his chin, folding his hands on his back. ”I guess, we'll get ready to move out then.” He didn't await an answer, but left the room without another word, closing the door firmly. 

Ianto came closer and sat down next to Jack. ”What about Gwen and Owen?”

”I'll recall them home,” Jack answered, already dialling his mobile phone. ”We'll stay here until I have figured out what to do with the base. I won't let UNIT have it. Not even for five minutes.”

Ianto bit his lip thoughtfully. ”What about the Reaper's children?”

Jack paused and stared at the screen of his mobile until the light went out. He took Ianto's hand, squeezing. ”They're Torchwood's to deal with. UNIT can't know about them.”

”No, I meant … what about letting them have Torchwood Two?”

Jack stared at him in surprise. 

Ianto shrugged. ”Isn't it reasonable? This base really just needs someone to watch it. No dangerous missions, no need to recruit anyone from scratch ...”

Jack nodded. ”Yeah … you're right. Maybe ...” He swallowed when he instinctively thought of Michael being closer. Then he shook his head. ”It would mean bringing them to UNIT's attention. They have a right to know who runs this base.”

Ianto shrugged. ”They have no right to know where you recruited them.”

Jack's eyes widened and then he grinned.

Ianto returned the smile. ”Just imagine,” he said, ”Reaper children right under UNIT's nose. And they won't have a clue.”

”You're devious.”

”You knew that already.”

Jack laughed.

***

“You'll leave?” Ariane asked. 

Gwen nodded. ”Jack called us back home.”

Christin handed Owen a mug with coffee and sat down next to Ariane. Rain was pattering against the big windows of their flat. Gwen already dreaded the way to the airport. On the other hand, she was really looking forward to seeing Rhys again. Their tickets were already booked. There was just one more thing they needed to do. Gwen pulled a folded piece of paper out of her jeans pocket. ”Jack told me to give you this.” She handed the note to Ariane, who opened it and glanced at the numbers, then she looked at Gwen questioningly. ”The Hub's internal number,” Gwen explained. ”And Jack's mobile number as well as mine.”

Ariane nodded, folding the note. ”Thank you.”

”We hope that you can find it in you to trust us. We're not Archie, but Jack isn't Yvonne Hartmann, either. He means well.”

Christin nodded. ”We will get in contact with the others and discuss it.”

Owen cleared his throat. ”If there's a chance we could meet all of you some day, that would be good.”

Ariane put the note on the sidetable. ”We'll be in touch.”

Gwen knew that they wouldn't get more than that and nodded, getting up. ”All right then. Where is Michael? I was hoping to say goodbye.”

Ariane and Christin looked at each other and Ariane sighed tiredly. ”On his way to Scotland.”

***

“Captain,” Ronson said in surprise when she opened the door to her room at the B&B. 

Jack didn't wait for her invitation to come in, but just strode past her into the room. “I'm sure you already know that we hit a dead-end and I also know that you won't be able to help us out.”

She closed the door and crossed her arms, nodding. ”I'll be taking my leave. My mission on Earth is accomplished, I'm needed elsewhere.”

Jack put his hands on his hips. ”Answer a few questions for me first.”

”You can ask, but I decide whether I'll answer,” Ronson said with a smile that reminded Jack of that of an indulgent parent.

He brushed his irritation aside. ”What about Ianto?”

”There's no need to concern myself with this matter any longer. I could grasp from Archie's memories that Ianto's way isn't at its end, yet. He intended to adopt Ianto. His high empathy is one of the reasons, but he had several others I can't go into, as I'm sure you understand.”

Jack gave a nod, mainly relieved. ”When we first met, you said that you worked for Torchwood Four.”

”I did. For a few months, I was there to assess all the ways they could be a danger to time. As it turns out, they didn't need anyone to stop them. They were already well on their way in destroying themselves.”

Jack frowned. ”They're not destroyed.”

”I didn't say that. I only said that they aren't posing the kind of danger us Reapers need to interfere with.”

”And I guess that asking you to interfere wouldn't help?”

Ronson laughed and sat in one of the plush chairs the room was offering. ”No, certainly not.”

Jack bit his lip, frustrated. He knew that arguing with her wouldn't change anything, though, so he continued, ”What part is the Doctor playing in what's happening at the moment?”

Ronson got up again and stepped closer. ”I can't tell you that.” She took one of Jack's hands. ”Dark times are coming, Jack. I can't influence decisions you might potentially make by telling you what will come, but be assured that we are watching you closely and we will interfere if necessary.”

He shook his head, pulling his hand away. ”If it's necessary for _you_ , you mean.”

”Yes. We're not the care-takers of the universe, Jack. We don't work for you or Earth or the Doctor. We work for time and only her. Bad things happen but they have to happen, do you understand? Otherwise, no lectures are learned.” She ducked her head. ”What I can give you, is a piece of advice, though.” Her dark eyes found his. ”Every being in his universe has the ability to be good or bad. You should know, Captain, that even in an honourable and principled man like you, there's a monster hiding away, waiting to come out.” 

Jack swallowed and ducked his head, knowing she had probably seen everything he was ashamed of. 

Ronson reached up and lifted his chin gently. ”Take chances and trust people offering help. Or at least, give them the opportunity to prove themselves to you. After all, that's what the Doctor did for you.”

Jack nodded slowly.

”Good. Now ...” She smiled widely. ”I think you should head for the airport to pick up Michael.”

Jack's eyes widened. ”Michael?” 

”He will land in about an hour. And he'll know you'll wait for him.”

Jack turned around to hurry away, but Ronson stopped him by calling his name. ”Remember what I told you.”

He nodded and left, already digging his mobile from his coat pocket and ringing Tosh.

_”Jack?”_

”Which flight is Michael arriving with in Glasgow?” he asked.

_”Michael? He's coming to Scotland?”_

”Yes.” 

He heard her tell Wheeler to hold on and then her tapping away while he hurried down the stairs. _”Michael Weber is booked on the BA landing at 10:55 at Glasgow Airport.”_

”Thanks, Tosh.”

 _”Jack,”_ she said and he stopped on the pavement. _”Good luck.”_

He smiled. ”Yeah.”


	15. Chapter 15

**15.**

 

Tosh left the boardroom to find Jamie downstairs in the main Hub on the couch. He was staring at the screen of his laptop thoughtfully. She called his name but he didn't even blink. Worried, she came down the winding stairs and called his name again, louder this time. Jamie startled and looked up at her, giving her an embarrassed smile. Tosh smiled back cautiously. ”Are you all right?” she asked. 

Jamie gave a tired sigh. He hit a key on his keyboard and slapped the laptop shut. ”Just sending an e-mail to my step-father,” he answered. He shook his head. ”Sorry, I should have been on my way home hours ago. It's just ...” He shrugged. ”I don't actually _want_ to leave, you know.”

”It's okay,” Tosh replied, sitting next to him. ”I don't mind the company.”

He took off his glasses, fiddling with them. ”Believe me, I don't either.” He met her eyes, then he blushed and ducked his head. ”Tosh ...”

”Yes?” 

He raised his head again, opened his mouth and then closed it. He swallowed and shook his head. ”I have to go before … I have to go. Could you call me a taxi to the train station?”

Somehow, Tosh knew he'd intended to say something else but that his courage had left him. It made her sad that someone as brilliant as him didn't have the self-confidence to match. She smiled sadly and reached over to squeeze his hand. ”I can do better than that. I'll give you a lift myself. You'll love our company car.”

***

“I'm fine, you know,” Owen said grumpily, shoving the airline's magazine into the pouch in front of him before he glared out the small window to watch the buildings of the airport roll by on their way to the runway. ”There's no need to give me these sad eyes all the time. I think I proved that I can be trusted on a mission.”

Gwen swallowed and tightened her seatbelt nervously. ”I think I have every reason to be worried, considering what you did.”

Owen turned his head, glaring at her sharply. ”I think it's none of your business what I did, Gwen,” he hissed. Nevertheless, the man sitting next to them turned his head, staring. Owen's dark eyes turned on him and he quickly looked back down onto the pages of his book. Owen lowered his voice even more, leaning towards her. ”We're not sleeping with each other anymore.” He snorted. ”Even then, my mood wasn't your business. You have a boyfriend you can coddle.”

Gwen frowned at him. ”You're being unfair.”

”Am I?”

”I know that you loved Diane,” Gwen said softly, grasping his hand and holding on when he tried to pull away. ”It's all right to be sad, it's even all right to feel angry, but … you locked yourself into a cage with a Weevil, Owen. That is as good as suicide!”

”You want to talk about that _here_?” Owen asked, looking pointedly at the other passengers surrounding them.

Gwen shook her head. ”I just want you to know that I'm here for you – as a friend. We all are.”

”Lovely,” Owen muttered, freeing his hand and grabbing the magazine back. ”Just lovely. I'm fine. Just like Ianto after Lisa, Tosh after Mary, Jack after bloody Matthew York – we're all fine. Out of all of us, you're the only one who can't understand what it feels like, Gwen, so mind your own business for once.” 

Gwen stared at him, unwilling to admit how much his words hurt. She ducked her head and breathed in deeply, calming herself. She was a bit surprised when she noticed Owen looking at her as soon as she opened her eyes again. 

He cleared his throat. ”Thanks for caring, though,” he said softly, “but you don't understand, not really.” He smiled sadly. ”And I'm glad you don't.”

With that, he turned back to his magazine and didn't say another word to her for the duration of the flight.

***

“Jamie!?” Tosh called, looking through the main Hub. 

Jamie was standing by the couch, his packed bag on the coffee table and his laptop bag hanging from his shoulder. 

”Hey, I've been calling you,” Tosh said. ”I set all the alarms, let's go.” She turned back towards the corridor that would take them to the garage.

”Tosh,” he said and she stopped, turning back.

”Yes?” 

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then closed it again and clenched his eyes shut. 

Dread settled in Tosh's stomach. This wasn't nervousness or Jamie being shy. Something bigger was going on. ”What's wrong?”

Jamie looked at her miserably. ”I can't do this. You've been so nice to me ...” He shrugged. “And … my stepfather hates me. My brother doesn't care. They think that I'm not good for anything because I didn't become a soldier like they did. My mother wants me to get along with them and I'm trying but whatever I do, it's never enough.”

”Okay,” Tosh said, stepping closer. ”That's really bad but I don't get what you mean.”

”I know I shouldn't care … but they're all I have.”

”They're family. I understand,” Tosh said reassuringly.

”My stepfather ...” Jamie swallowed. ”Before I came here, he ordered me to do something and I did … but I don't know now whether it was the right thing to do. I just thought it wouldn't be a big deal when I agreed and ...”

Tosh stared at him in shock, her mind rattling through all the files Jamie could have hacked into, all the systems he could have checked after she gave him the initial permission to look at the Rift manipulator ... ”What did you do?”

Jamie swallowed and bit his lip. ”I hacked into your CCTV and listened to your … conversations with Captain Harkness. And I … tried to find out where exactly Harper and Cooper went – which I didn't manage, though, because the GPS tracker is protected too well and … I sent him some files and information.”

Tosh gasped an put a hand over her mouth. ”Oh God! What did you send him?”

Jamie closed his eyes. ”I'm sorry. I thought he was just interested in the other bases – and he was, at the start, but apparently, there was some kind of cold trace UNIT had been following for a while which is now hot again and ...” He shook his head and brushed both hands through his hair. “Your friends in Glasgow have to run. Now.”

Tosh fumbled for her mobile. ”What trace are you talking about? Who is UNIT looking for?” She pushed the speed dial for Jack's mobile and pressed her phone against her ear.

“Some kind of experiment,” Jamie answered. ”From way back. I didn't have time to read the files.”

”The 30s?” Tosh asked, waiting for Jack to pick up.

”Yes.”

Tosh closed her eyes. “Michael.”

”They're after him,” Jamie said. ”Apparently, he belongs to UNIT.”

***

Jack wasn't sure what would happen when he found Michael among those leaving the secure area of the airport. He was nervous and excited and very aware of his hands fidgeting in the pockets of his coat and his restless pacing. He didn't know what to do, not at all. He didn't know how to react when Michael would be standing in front of him, didn't know if he should hug him or stay distanced, didn't know what Michael would want him to do. The noise of the people waiting to pick up their loved ones was grating on his nerves, adding to his insecurities, because he wasn't as excited as them. A small sliver of dread had settled into his belly and had grown into a lump in his throat. 

He didn't even know anymore if this was such a good idea after all and there were enough reasons this could end very badly.

”Dad?” 

He whirled around. Michael was smiling at him ... and it wasn't that hard in the end after all. 

Jack pulled him into an embrace, pressing him close enough that surely, he must be hurting him but Michael didn't seem to mind, his hands clutching at Jack's coat and his face buried in his shoulder. He felt like Matthew against him – shorter and slimmer than Jack – but he also was different – smelling of the leather jacket he was wearing and aftershave … and Jack suddenly wished that Matthew would be able to see this, to see his son … their son. 

He swallowed tears and pressed his lips against Michael's forehead and whispered, ”I missed you.” And it wasn't enough, would never be enough, to explain how he felt. He'd lost all his children some way … even Alice, who he'd found again but who didn't want him in her life. But Michael was here. 

_He was here._

And nothing, not even the mobile going off in Jack's coat pocket, would distract from that right now.

***

Ianto heard his mobile ring downstairs when he left the shower stall. He cursed and quickly dressed in jeans and a jumper before he hurried down the stairs into the kitchen, where he'd left the phone after a quick lunch. The phone stopped ringing by the time his feet met the kitchen tiles and he huffed a breath, slowing down to rub at a sudden sting in his arm. When his hand caught on something, he stopped and looked down. The hypodermic needle in his hand didn't make any sense. He blinked to battle a sudden bout of dizziness. 

”What ...” 

The sound of something scuffing against the tiled floor behind him made him whirl around … but he stumbled and barely caught himself on the wooden handrail of the staircase. When he raised his head, five UNIT soldiers were staring at him, their guns raised threateningly. 

”You can't do that,” he said, feeling tremendously stupid for such an understatement. He tried to focus, to project emotion – confusion, happiness, exhaustion … only those were allowed. Fear was too destructive, as was anger. Archie had taught him how to defend himself should push come to shove without hurting anyone … but he just couldn't focus. 

The room started to spin and he fell to his knees. The soldiers came closer carefully. 

Ianto's mobile started to ring again. And he blacked out.

***

Jack kept his arm around Michael as he walked him to the car. He'd only found a parking space in the farthest corner of the garage and they'd left other families and travellers loading and unloading their cars far behind them. Jack couldn't help but feel slightly tense. For some reason, the instincts his time as a soldier, Torchwood agent and Time Agent had brought were flaring up and he kept careful watch while Michael was telling him about the flight.

”We really did meet every single turbulence on the planet. Or at least, that's what it felt like,” he said. ”So, I didn't get to eat anything, really. I just felt queasy.”

”Are you hungry now?” Jack asked, only half-focussing on him. He thought he heard something – boots on tarmac – but he couldn't be sure. A bit further down, a couple as laughing on their way to the terminal.

”I'm starving,” Michael said with a wide smile. 

Jack looked down at him, giving him a squeeze. ”I'll take you out. There's a great pub just down the street from Torchwood Two. I'm sure Ianto wouldn't mind joining us.” He bit his lip, suddenly a bit unsure. ”If that's all right with you.”

Michael shrugged, unconcerned. ”Why wouldn't it be?”

Jack's mobile rang. He made an apologetic face. ”Sorry, I need to get this. I already ignored it in the hall.”

”Don't worry about it.”

Jack dug the car key out of his coat pocket and handed it over. ”Big SUV just at the end of the row.” He nodded towards it, the bulky frame of the car already promising a fast get-away from this strange feeling of being watched.

Michael nodded and hurried towards it while Jack slowed his steps, looking at the display of his mobile before he picked up. ”Tosh, what's up?”

 _”You didn't pick up your phone!”_ she said sharply.

Jack pulled a face, knowing he deserved the tongue-lashing. There was nothing he got more angry about than his team not answering their mobiles himself. ”Sorry, yes. I'm … I was-”

_”It doesn't matter. Jack, it's UNIT. They're after you, you need to grab Ianto and get out of there.”_

Jack stopped in his stride, looking at Michael walking around the car to the passenger seat … out of his sight. ”UNIT?” He started to walk, increasingly fast.

_”I'll explain later, just … get Ianto and Michael and run.”_

”Ianto's not with me. I'm still at the airport.”

_”Jack, Michael is their prime target. Apparently, they're under the impression he belongs to them.”_

Jack started to run. ”Michael!” he called and then asked Tosh, ”They know he's a Reaper?”

_”No, this isn't about him being a Reaper. Apparently, they've been looking for Michael for 70 years.”_

She continued talking but Jack didn't hear her because he lowered the mobile, startled to see Michael pressed against the car by two soldiers, handcuffed. ”What the hell?” he asked, keeping the connection to Tosh purposefully. ”Are you aware what you are doing?” he asked sharply.

”Making an arrest,” someone said behind him and he turned around to Colonel Houghton. He was wearing his green uniform, his hands behind his back. His dark eyes caught Jack's head-on and a smug smile was pulling at the corners of his lips.

”What the fuck are you playing at, here?” Jack asked. ”Let Michael go.”

”You mean that clone that you call your son?” Houghton asked. ”Somehow, you forgot to mention his involvement in all this.” He grinned nastily. “I will forgive you, though, considering that your memory doesn't seem to be the best. After all, you forgot to mention your immortality ever since you stranded on this planet.”

Jack swallowed. The only people outside of Torchwood Three who he'd ever told about his immortality had been a few carefully chosen doctors and scientists from Torchwood One and even less even more carefully chosen allies within UNIT. ”What's going on?” he asked. ”What do you want?”

”What do you think?” Houghton asked. ”We want the Reaper's children and we want the Rift source bases.” He took Jack's mobile from him and spoke into it, ”Miss Sato, thank my step-son for me. He was incredibly useful for once.” He hung up. ”But most of all, we want what James Lees has been promising us seventy years ago – we want the clone.”


	16. Chapter 16

**16.**

 

Gwen smiled when she saw Rhys waiting for her at the exit of the airport. He raised a hand to wave at her and she grinned happily before quickly turning to Owen. "Will you need me at the Hub?" she asked. 

He frowned at Rhys, then at her. "Why?" 

"Rhys is here," she answered.

Owen's frown deepened into a scowl. "Yeah, well, since this is your only chance to spend time with your boyfriend …"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Jack didn't say anything about needing us to be at the Hub immediately after we get back." 

Owen's face had settled into the mulish, hard expression he always wore when he was unhappy about something, but too proud to admit to it. 

Gwen hated that expression. 

Owen looked at Rhys, then back at her, his shoulders stiff. "Tosh is there."

"So?" Gwen asked, squaring her jaw.

Owen glared at her. "So her and I get stuck with the nightshift because Jack's too busy shagging Ianto and you're too busy shagging your boyfriend."

Gwen shook her head. ”If you're being a cock about this, I'm just going to leave. See you tomorrow.”

She turned to go, but Owen grabbed her arm. She glared at him and he gave a cynical smile. ”You know, at least Ianto's the first to come and the last to go most of the time and Jack hardly ever leaves the Hub except for missions … and he's the boss.”

Gwen stared at him, shaking his hand off angrily. "You think I'm not pulling my weight?"

Owen shrugged. "Seems like it, sometimes." 

“You're just still sore that _I'm_ Jack's 2IC,” Gwen said. 

His jaw hardened. ”You think I'm that petty?”

She didn't answer, just kept staring at him. 

Owen scoffed. ”Right. Stay away then. Tosh and I'll manage anyway.” With that, he shouldered his backpack and headed for the exit, vanishing in the crowd. 

Gwen looked after him, a ball of dread settling in her stomach. She swallowed. She hadn't wanted to say these things, hadn't meant to get this defensive. She couldn't even say why she'd reacted the way she had. She just felt stupid now. Usually, she wasn't someone who tried to get out of work at every opportunity and she loved her job at Torchwood, despite all its dangers. But the last few months had scared her as well and the fling with Owen had put some things about her relationship with Rhys into perspective. Rhys was stead-fast and sweet and loyal and he loved her. She loved him. Sex with Owen had been fantastic and comforting when Rhys couldn't know what was going on in her head because he wasn't allowed to know about Torchwood. But sex with Owen had also been just that – sex. Looking back, it was hard to believe that she had ever endangered what she had with Rhys like that. The losses Jack and the others had endured – especially Owen's loss of Diane – had shown her just that. She was lucky for having Rhys and there was no way she was going to throw that away now. Not anymore.

Rhys's arms around her startled her out of her thoughts and she returned the chaste kiss he planted on her lips in greeting. ”Hello there, gorgeous! All right?”

Gwen took a deep breath, trying to distract herself from Owen's words. She grinned back at him. ”Yeah. Let's go home.”

***

“Jesus!” Jack exclaimed upon seeing Ianto slumped in a chair at the kitchen table of Torchwood Two, cradling a cup. He hurried over to him and crouched next to his chair. ”Ianto, are you okay?” he asked gently, putting one hand on his thigh.

Ianto looked at him blearily and blinked. Then he smiled. ”Jack.” 

Jack reacted to the smile automatically, but he was worried. The calm presence of Ianto's emotions in the back of his mind was non-existent and his pupils blown wide, his skin slightly clammy. Only the fact that he'd been supplied with a cup of tea and not handcuffed kept Jack from lunging at Houghton in anger.

”Past experiences with empaths have shown,” Colonel Houghton said from behind him, “that the drug we've given him is the most useful in blocking his gift. We are keeping him slightly sedated until this business is finished and he's under control.”

Jack straightened and turned around to glare at Houghton, all too aware of the soldiers watching him carefully and the steps of more of Houghton's men upstairs. ”He wasn't out of control,” Jack snapped, “and you are trespassing.”

Houghton nodded towards the kitchen table when one of his men led Michael inside. ”We put a different definition on that word than you do,” he answered while Michael was sat down next to Ianto, still handcuffed.

Jack scoffed. ”This is Torchwood Two. I sent your son home, ending the assignment that UNIT and Torchwood carried out together. Effectively, that makes what you are doing now trespassing.”

”I'm conducting business,” Houghton answered, sitting at the head of the table and folding his hands.

”You arrested us,” Jack said. ”I wouldn't call that a good strategy to start conducting business.”

”I'm trying to solve this peacefully by making you an offer, Captain. Which you can accept or not, as you see fit. You should be aware there will be consequences if you refuse, though.” Houghton was handed a file and a cup of tea. He didn't look at any of his men when he said, ”Uncuff Mr. Weber and get him something to drink.” He opened the file.

Jack put his hands on his hips. ”You can't do this. I'm the Torchwood director. You have no right to treat me like this. You have no right to arrest Ianto or Michael.”

Houghton looked up at him, his face impassive. ”Mr. Jones used empathy to kill.”

”He's been cleared of that,” Jack replied and crossed his arms. 

”He used his gift to influence UNIT soldiers over the last few days.”

”He influenced _me_ ,” Jack answered. ”Nobody else.”

Houghton smiled. ”You admit that he did it then.”

Jack grit his teeth. ”Just with me. I gave him permission.”

”We can't be sure he only influenced you, Captain Harkness. It can't be proven. You just admitted that he uses his gift consciously and actively. I think that is a security risk.” 

Ianto groaned and put his head in his hands. Jack would have teased him about that uncharacteristic reaction if he weren't so worried.

Houghton cleared his throat. ”To make matters worse, we found evidence here at Torchwood Two showing that Mr. McIntyre trained Mr. Jones. He taught him how to use his empathy to influence others. I would call that a criminal intent.” 

”You can't be serious!” Jack exclaimed. ”An empath needs training once he's used his empathy or he might lose control. Archie only taught Ianto how to exceed control so he wouldn't hurt anybody.”

Michael's hand grabbed Jack's sleeve, tugging gently. ”You're only making it worse,” he said softly. ”Empathic influence can't be proven. If the Colonel insists that his men was forced to leave the Torchwood Two premises via Ianto influencing them to do so, you can do nothing to prove him wrong. He did his research, before the arrest. Or rather, he had his step-son do it.”

Houghton smiled at him. ”You don't even try to hide it, do you?”

Michael looked at him, unafraid. ”You couldn't resist making the initial arrest at the airport yourself. You touched me. I know everything there is to know about you. Why should I hide it? You can't say that what I can do is criminal. I look at what happened, I can't tell what will happen, I can't influence people. I know you are hell-bent on taking us all in. All the Reaper children. You want the Rift sources as well. Most of all, you want me because UNIT thinks that my existence is of scientific interest. I may have been valuable decades ago, but I don't understand why you would still look for me after all these years.”

Houghton shrugged. ”That isn't my department. I just know that your name is on our list and it's time it got scratched off.”

Jack said, ”How do you know about this? The files on Matthew's pregnancy were destroyed.”

”You might think so, Captain Harkness,” Houghton answered, ”but Mr. Lees was clever enough to make copies.” He pursed his lips. ”The UNIT that was in contact with Mr. Lees was quite different from the UNIT that was officially founded later on. They were a small special operations team investigating the very first proofs of alien life and unfortunately, they hardly had any influence. By the time the funds started to come in and UNIT received an official place as a military organisation, Mr. Jane and Dr. Mason were dead and they were the only ones who knew by whom Michael had been adopted. UNIT kept their eyes open, trying to find a trace … we never stopped.”

Michael looked up at Jack. “Archie always said I was in danger. I thought he was being paranoid. After all these years ...”

Jack hadn't known. He'd always believed that Michael had been taken away from him because of his responsibilities to Torchwood, because nobody trusted him to be able to raise Matthew's son … and he'd still looked for Matthew back then, had been away a lot of the time, away from Michael, guilt-ridden and sad. And Constantine, the man he'd despised and who he'd thought had despised him …

”What do you want?” Ianto asked, his speech slow and slurred. ”This is … getting us nowhere. Just tell us what you want.”

Houghton leaned back in his chair, giving a nod. ”I want Mr. Jones under the control of a UNIT anchor which would allow him to return to Torchwood but gives us reassurances that he can be controlled should the need arise. Your son may remain with you, Captain, if he reports to us on a regular basis for tests. In these times, the fact that he's a clone isn't that interesting anymore, but his gifts are. We want the bases watching the Rift sources and we want you to arrange for contact with the other Reaper children, especially with those who have Reaper genes. Unfortunately, we couldn't find out their identities. All files referring to them are using code names.”

”What do you want with them?” Jack asked.

”We want them to work for us.”

”And to do experiments,” Michael said. “He's hoping that you will deliver the others to UNIT in exchange for me.”

Jack put a hand on Michael's shoulder. ”I gave a promise to protect their identities. I'm sure you understand.” 

Houghton sighed. ”You didn't even hear what I have to say about the consequences, should you not give us what we want.”

Jack shook his head. ”Well, do your worst.”

”I will gladly testify that Mr. Jones is a danger to us all. That he influenced my son and his people during their stay at Torchwood Two. He got off with a warning last time, but this time, I'll see to it that his abilities will be taken from him.”

”You can't do that!” Jack snapped. ”That's murder!”

”He won't die.”

”He will be as good as dead! It's equal to a lobotomy. I already explained that to another man who was intent on doing this to him.”

Houghton tilted his head to the side. ”He should have behaved then, shouldn't he?”

Jack took a step towards him. It wasn't the other soldiers in the room tensing and reaching for their guns which stopped him, but Ianto's hand grabbing him. ”Jack,” he said.

Houghton continued, seemingly not bothered by Jack's anger. ”Mr. Weber will remain with us. He is only an adopted Reaper, unfortunately, but we'll make do. You can visit him, of course, Captain.” 

Silence settled over the room.

”That's your offer?” Jack asked, clamping down on the rage constricting his chest.

”Give us all the Rift sources and the Reaper children and we let your son stay with you and Mr. Jones will remain free with an anchor authorised to interfere if necessary or we take his empathy, we take your son and surely, we'll find a way to make use of your immortality.” He smiled. ”Are a few people you don't even know really worth that, Captain Harkness?”


	17. Chapter 17

**17.**

 

"You hacked into Torchwood Two as well? How could you?" Tosh asked angrily. She clutched her phone to her ear, glaring at Jamie who was on the couch. She'd handcuffed one of his hands to the wooden armrest, but she had to admit that had been more out of the desire to do something to him than out of necessity. 

Jamie looked miserable. He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Tosh dropped into her chair, turning her phone in her hands thoughtfully. "I can't reach them." She brushed a hand through her hair, dislodging the hairband in the process to let her hair fall down on her shoulders. She stared at him and the way he huddled into himself, taking a calming breath. "Do you have any idea what's going to happen to them?"

"No," he answered. "My step-father didn't say."

"What _did_ he say?"

"He's …" Jamie sighed and tugged on the handcuffs when he tried to gesture. "He's very loyal. He loves his job. And he thinks that everything supernatural or alien is a threat that should be destroyed."

Tosh bit her lip. "Will he kill them?"

Jamie raised his shoulders into a shrug. "He's not a killer and UNIT wouldn't sanction it. He would …" His dark eyes flitted away from hers and he ducked his head.

Tosh swallowed against a knot forming in her throat. "Have someone experiment on them?"

"Maybe." He sighed. "Or ... he might ... prioritize."

She frowned. "Prioritize?" 

"He wants the people with Reaper genes more badly than he wants Harkness or Jones or even Michael because he's just adopted. He could be trying …" He paused. 

Tosh glared at him. "To blackmail them? Exert pressure?"

"That's what he does," Jamie snapped, getting up and pulling at the restraints. "He's a complete control freak and he exerts pressure to get what he wants and nobody dares to step into his way!"

”Well, you should have!” Tosh replied furiously. ”We let you in here, we trusted you!”

”I'm UNIT first and foremost.” Jamie sunk back onto the couch. ”You knew that.”

"What the hell is going on here?" Owen asked, entering though the garage entrance. He dropped his backpack at his desk, only giving Jamie and his handcuffs a cursory glance. "Kinky. Knew you had it in you," he told Tosh. 

She didn't respond to the joke, much too angry. "Why didn't you pick up your phone?"

Owen frowned and pulled it from his jacket. "Sorry, forgot to switch it on after the flight."

"UNIT's got Jack, Ianto and Michael."

Owen froze. "What for?"

"What do you think?” Tosh answered. “Jamie sent them files and listened to phone and video conferences he shouldn't have listened to. They know Michael's Jack's son, they know he's an adopted Reaper from some Torchwood Two reports Jamie pulled up by hacking into Archie's network using our shared servers, they know about the other Rift sources, they know Jack's immortal and they already are against Ianto's empathy."

Owen looked at Jamie. "Nicely done! So, what? They know everything but my shoe size?"

Jamie swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't help us right now." Owen turned to Tosh. "What are we going to do?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just ... I don't know."

Owen looked at his mobile. "I'll call Gwen. She'll need to come in."

"To do what?" Tosh asked impatiently. "There's nothing we can do!"

"She's the bloody 2IC! She's in charge now that they have Jack chained up!"

"And what is she supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" Owen answered and turned away, kicking his desk chair. "Fuck!" 

Jamie cleared his throat. "Can I make a call?" he asked softly.

"No," Owen answered. "Not until we've figured out what the bloody hell to do about you." He looked at Tosh. "No, I'm calling Gwen in. We need to think about this and three brains are better than two. We should call Nowak as well. He's our UNIT liaison, maybe he can do something."

Tosh nodded, relieved now that Owen was taking charge.

"Please," Jamie said. "I know I messed up but I might have a solution."

"As if we would trust you now," Owen replied.

"Let me call one person," Jamie said. 

Owen frowned at him. "Who would that be?"

"My step-brother.” 

Tosh looked at him in disbelief. ”You always talk about him as if he obeyed his father's every word.”

”And he does,” Jamie answered. ”Except if his father's plans interfere with his. And he's got connections that go higher than his father's. I just … please." He stared at them pleadingly. "Please." 

Tosh looked at Owen. He sighed. "Fine. You get him connected. I call Gwen in the meantime.”

***

Jack crossed his arms. “I want to talk to someone who is in charge around here.”

Houghton shook his head. ”I'm in charge.”

”I want to talk to Captain Stephen Nowak. He's the liaison between our institutions, he should be involved.”

”No.” 

Jack grit his teeth. ”I'm the Torchwood director. You can't blackmail me!”

”What is Torchwood these days, Captain Harkness?” Houghton asked. ”One branch left – five people, right? You're a club, not an institution. And you're in our way.”

Jack took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. ”I won't let you blackmail me.”

”It's already happening. I need your answer.”

Jack swallowed, unsure what to do. He knew his priorities, of course. In theory. Protecting the Reaper children was more important than anything else at this moment. But there was Michael and there was Ianto and protecting them was number one on Jack's personal priority list. 

Houghton sighed and gave the two soldiers at the door a sign. Before Jack could react, they had pushed past him and grabbed Ianto, pinning him to the floor. 

“Wait,” Jack said, trying to interfere, but he was grabbed by two other soldiers and forced back a few steps. 

Ianto struggled, but their grips were secure and the sedative was still having an effect on him, making his movements sluggish. One of the soldiers placed a needle against Ianto's neck and he stilled. ”Jack?” 

”Let go of him,” Jack snarled at Houghton, tugging on the firm grip the men had on his arms. ”Didn't you hear me?” he asked angrily and started to struggle for real but a gun being pointed at Michael let him freeze. He stared at Houghton. ”Don't do this. If you block his empathy, he won't be able to feel any deep emotion anymore. This drug doesn't just take away his gift, it makes him unable to live a normal life.”

”You can stop me,” Houghton answered. 

Jack closed his eyes. Then he looked at Ianto. He tried to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come.

Ianto nodded shakily. ”It's okay,” he said. ”I'd do the same.”

”Inject him,” Houghton said. ”Now.”


	18. Chapter 18

**18.**

 

“He's not picking up,” Gwen said. She was connected to the Hub with her landline clutched to her ear while her mobile rang Jack's number again and again. ”It goes to voicemail.” She hung up and rubbed a hand down her face. Rhys stared at her with worried eyes from the kitchen where he was busying himself making tea.

Owen cursed. _”The Prime Minister is refusing to take our call. We can't reach Nowak.”_

”So that's it?” Gwen asked. ”All our resources? Two people?”

There was a pause, then Owen hesitantly muttered, _”Jack's got the Queen's number.”_

”Jack's not here,” Gwen replied. “What about Wheeler?”

 _”He reached his step-brother. He talked to him in the boardroom. They were on the phone for a while. Apparently, he's got 'connections', whatever that's supposed to mean.”_ He sighed. _”Let's face it. The father outranks the son. The connections must be good.”_

”And fast,” Gwen said.

***

“Sergeant!” a voice whipped through the room and the soldier with the syringe startled. Jack feared he would inject Ianto purely by accident, but he got himself under control. 

Everyone looked towards the door leading into the backyard of the base. 

Captain Alex Houghton was standing there, his hands on his hips and his dark eyes glaring at his father. ”Don't you dare.”

The sergeant looked at Colonel Houghton, unsure. 

The Colonel's eyes narrowed and he got up. ”Need I explain the chain of command to you, Alex?”

”I think _you_ need to have it explained to you,” Alex said. He tilted his head towards the backyard. ”A word, _Colonel_.” 

It was quiet for a moment while father and son stared at each other challengingly and Jack couldn't help but feel respect for Alex. Standing up to his father obviously made him tense but he didn't back down. Finally, the Colonel gave a tight nod. Jack breathed a sigh of relief when the soldiers holding him and Ianto stood down and Ianto was pulled to his feet and pushed back into the chair.

”Captain Harkness,” Alex said, ”if you wouldn't mind.”

It wasn't an offer to join them, it was an order. Jack grit his teeth and followed Alex and his father out into the backyard. Rain was drumming on the plastic sheet shielding them from curious eyes glancing down from the surrounding buildings. Still, after the last few days, Jack doubted that the neighbours didn't know about the military taking over what they thought was a harmless antiques shop. 

They were alone out here. The only other soldier present quickly went inside and closed the door when Colonel Houghton glared at him. The moment the lock clicked into place, he rounded on his son. ”What is the meaning of this? Why are you pulling a stunt like that in front of my men, undermining my authority?!”

Alex squared his shoulders and grit his teeth. ”This discussion isn't private, Colonel.”

”You want to have it as a soldier?” Houghton answered angrily. ”Fine! Captain Houghton, explain yourself or I will press charges for disobedience.”

Alex's eyes narrowed. ”Torchwood Two was handed over to Captain Harkness and his team. You have no right to be here and you have no right to arrest them.”

”Law says I do.”

”Mr. Jones was cleared of all charges against him.”

”They're still harbouring a fugitive.”

”Michael York?” Alex asked incredulously. ”That report is seventy years old. UNIT wasn't even properly established at the time.”

Houghton scoffed. ”He's a Reaper and more of them are on this planet. That threat is real.”

”They've lived here for centuries for all we know and we didn't even notice them!”

”They are a _potential_ threat.”

”The Reaper children are of no interest to us.”

Houghton stared at his son darkly. ”You decide that?” he asked. ”This is your order?”

”It's an order I'm executing,” Alex answered. ”A deal for Torchwood's cooperation in a matter of the highest importance was made. In return, the Reaper children are theirs to deal with.” He looked at Jack. ”UNIT gets all Rift sources, though. Concerning the one beneath Torchwood Two, a team made up out of Torchwood and UNIT personnel will take over.”

Jack swallowed and bit back a sharp admonishment. He was angry that Alex would use the situation to strike a deal Jack didn't want to agree to. Considering that he was going against his own father and a higher-ranking officer, though – to help them – made it almost impossible to refuse. 

Especially in front of Colonel Houghton, who seemed hell-bent on getting his way. He was looking at Jack as well, challenging him. ”You made a deal?”

Jack crossed his arms. ”For Torchwood's continuous existence,” he stressed, staring at Alex. Two could play at this game. ”Which can then continue to work _independent_ of UNIT influence.” 

Alex's eyes narrowed and he seemed to think about it. ”Exactly,” he finally conceded.

Houghton's calm voice barely hid the fury underneath. ”Who authorized you to make deals like that?”

”Our minister of defence,” Alex answered, ”Harold Saxon.”

Jack closed his eyes. He should have known. Saxon seemed genuinely interested in keeping Torchwood up and running but Jack already owed him too many favours. 

Alex added, ”He gave the order to General Pizano and she gave it to me. Considering you used foulplay to get to the information and Mr. Saxon seems rather fond of Captain Harkness and his team, she decided to give the lead over this operation to me.”

Houghton smiled cynically. ”That little rat went and called you behind my back, didn't he?”

”Jamie made the right decision,” Alex answered. ”You know how much General Pizano likes the relationship between UNIT and Torchwood to be a cooperative and peaceful one.”

”Just because her sister held some form of authority in Torchwood One-”

”Some _form_ of authority?” Alex asked with raised eyebrows. ”That's an understatement.”

They stared at each other. 

Then Alex asked, ”Should I call Mr. Saxon? I'm sure he'll be happy to stress his orders in this case.”

Houghton scoffed and gave Jack a murderous glare. ”I'll tell my men to pack up.”

With that, he turned and went back inside. When the door slammed shut, Alex released a breath and cleared his throat. ”Family dinner on Sunday will be uncomfortable.”

Not interested in small talk right now, Jack asked, ”What kind of deal exactly did we make?”

Alex smiled at him. ”Granted that Mr. Saxon wins the elections and becomes Prime Minister – and let's face it, he will – he'll keep funding Torchwood, which will keep its independence. UNIT will get all the Rift sources. Torchwood Two will become a shared base. The Reaper children can run free.”

”I doubt that's all,” Jack said.

Alex smiled and nodded. ”That assignment I mentioned the other day ...”

”The one you wanted to recruit us for?”

”Under the new circumstances, let's not call it 'recruitment'. Let's call it … a joint-venture.”

”To do what?”

”To make history.”

”Stop hinting, give me the facts.”

Alex chuckled. ”All right. I can't go into detail at the moment because, to be honest, we don't know much either. We just know that our satellites found something in the Himalayas. Could be a crashed spaceship.”

”It wouldn't be the first one.” Jack shrugged. ”What's so special about this one?”

”I'm not talking a little shuttle or an escape pod or whatever else landed here before. I'm talking a huge spaceship buried in the snow. Maybe for centuries. Probably crash-landed and was never found.” He stepped closer to Jack and while his face remained impassive – ever the good soldier – his eyes were alight with curiosity and excitement. Jack suddenly liked him a lot more. ”Just imagine: When we find it and study it, Earth could start to develop their own spaceships, able to carry us through the universe. This, Captain, could be the start of humankind taking their place among the stars.” He clapped Jack's shoulder. ”And we get to be part of it.”


	19. Chapter 19

**19.**

 

Gwen hung up her mobile and turned to Rhys with a relieved smile. Rescue had come at the last moment, but it had come and Jack had confirmed to all of them that him, Ianto and Michael were just fine. He didn't know yet when he'd return to Cardiff, but had sounded positive that it wouldn't take long to find someone to take over Torchwood Two. Until then, Gwen, Owen and Tosh would share night shifts at the Hub. Gwen put her mobile on the coffee table and went to join Rhys in the kitchen niche.

”All right?” he asked. 

She nodded and accepted the mug of tea he handed her. Rhys hadn't been able to do much while she was on the phone or to really understand what was going on, but he'd been there with tea and comforting looks and it had been more than enough. ”It's fine now,” she said, pressing against his side and planting a kiss on his cheek. 

His arm wrapped around her waist and he turned his head to peck her lips. ”I know I can't know what exactly was going on there,” he said, looking earnest, ”but please promise me you're safe.”

Gwen ducked her head. She knew that Rhys wasn't all too happy about her job with 'special forces', mainly because it was more dangerous than her job with the police. Gwen raised her head again and looked into his eyes. ”I can't,” she murmured. ”I can't promise you that.”

Rhys sighed and made to move away but Gwen held on to him.

”What I can promise you,” she said, ”is that I'll be careful.”

Rhys shook his head and his hand strayed where the shotgun had hit her when they'd been after the cannibals in the Brecon Beacons. Scars had remained from that encounter and Gwen knew he hated them because he hadn't been able to be there and help her. ”Is it worth it?” he asked. 

Gwen didn't need to think about that question but she made sure that she had caught Rhys's eyes before answering with a nod. ”Most days, it's worth it.”

***

Tosh got out of the car to say goodbye to Jamie. It was only early evening and the main station was bustling with energy as usual, buses and taxis rolling past, people hurrying inside and above it all, the sounds of trains leaving the station and arriving. 

Jamie had gathered his luggage from the boot of Tosh's car and was now standing there a bit forlorn, looking towards the low entrance hall and then at Tosh. ”I'm sorry for what happened. My father is … I didn't know why he was so interested and I didn't see any harm in it. He didn't ask for computer codes or technology or … I just couldn't say no.”

Tosh crossed her arms and shrugged. ”In a way, I understand.”

”You do?”

She nodded.

Jamie gave a shy smile. ”Well,” he righted his glasses, “I realized my mistake a second too late. So I tried to fix it.”

Tosh was momentarily distracted by a group of teenagers leaving the station's M&S with bags of foods, whooping and laughing loudly. She smiled and turned back to Jamie. ”And you did.”

Jamie blushed. ”Genius, you know. What I want to achieve, I can achieve.” 

Tosh laughed and ducked her head. When she raised it again, she was surprised by Jamie pressing his lips to hers, just briefly, then he pulled back. 

”You know,” he muttered, but whatever he wanted to say next didn't seem to cooperate and he trailed off with a frustrated huff. 

Tosh touched her hand to her lips and then brushed her hair behind her ears, not quite knowing what to say to put him at ease. Finally, she just reached out a hand pulled him closer, leaning up a bit to kiss him again, lingering for a moment. When she pulled back, Jamie was staring at her as if he couldn't quite believe she was there. 

Then he licked his lips and grinned. ”I should get going then.”

”Well, you could come back sometime and we could have dinner,” Tosh offered. “Or I could come up to London.”

Jamie's eyes widened. ”Oh! Uh ...” He swallowed. ”That sounds … agreeable. I mean … not that it's just … that, it would be … very ...” He pulled a face. ”Are you sure?”

Tosh laughed. ”I'm pretty sure.”

”Okay … I probably should … get going then and write the report and see my mom and … hand in vacation or something.” 

”Sounds like a plan,” Tosh said.

He picked up his bag and turned to go. At the door to the train station, though, he turned back once more and waved before ducking inside. Tosh chuckled and got back into her car.

***

Jack put a hand on the small of Michael's back and led him up the creaky stairs. ”Archie's flat,” he said in explanation. ”There's a comfy couch in the living room or we could change the sheets in the guest room and you could sleep there.” 

”I'm not fussy,” Michael answered, going straight through to the cluttered lounge. He dropped his bag onto the couch and sat in one of the armchairs at the fire place. ”As long as I finally get some sleep.”

”This'll do then,” Jack said. He pushed his hands into his coat pockets and smiled nervously. Suddenly, some of his insecurities returned. He heard Ianto in the kitchen – without a doubt cleaning up from the dinner they'd had within the base after the afternoon they'd had – and cleared his throat. ”I … we can come by tomorrow morning for breakfast or lunch, depending on how long we all sleep.”

Michael crossed one leg over the other and grinned at him. ”Aren't you going to sleep here, too?”

”I think it's too crowded for three people.”

”We have Archie's bedroom, the guest room and the couch. I think it's perfectly suitable.” 

Jack swallowed. ”Yes, it's just that ...” He huffed a breath of frustration.

Michael laughed. ”Are you blushing?” he teased. ”Dad, I'm seventy-three years old and not stupid. You know, I'm not a virgin.” He winked at him.

”Jesus,” Jack muttered, for once finding himself not interested in sexual details.

”I'm not that bad-looking,” Michael continued, getting up from the chair. ”I've had plenty of sex. So …” He clapped Jack's shoulder. “... you go and have fun, old man.”

Jack reacted instinctively by pulling Michael into a hug. ”I love you.” He pulled back a bit and framed Michael's face with his hands. ”Your dad would have been so proud.” 

Michael swallowed and lowered his eyes. “I like to think so.”

”I know he would be. That's why I want you to think about something,” Jack said, grabbing Michael's shoulders. ”You don't have to decide immediately, though. I think … if you would be interested in taking over where Archie left off, that would be ...”

Michael's eyes widened. ”Lead Torchwood Two?”

”We would be closer,” Jack explained. ”Or do you have anything holding you back? A girlfriend or boyfriend?”

Michael shook his head. ”A girlfriend, if anything. To go steady with someone, I would have to figure out first how to explain why I don't age as fast as she does.” He swallowed. ”I need to sleep over it.”

Jack nodded. “That's okay.”

***

“So?” Owen asked when Tosh joined him in the boardroom, setting down two fresh bottles of beer. ”Did you shag him?”

She blushed. ”Owen,” she said, exasperated.

”It's a valid question,” he answered, focussing on the screen again. He had his feet up on one of the other chairs and the pizza box on his lap. 

Tosh didn't trust the material of her box enough to risk permanent grease stains on her trousers and left it on the table instead. She dropped herself into one of the other chairs and sipped her beer. The flat screen was showing two young women running away from an explosion. ”What are we watching?” 

”Don't know,” Owen answered. ”Found it while zapping around. Seems okay.”

He smiled at her and she grinned back, taking off her shoes to put her feet up as well. ”I'd like to shag him, though”, she said. 

Owen laughed.

***

_"I don't ... I don't know why you would be even interested in me, Captain, but as I already said earlier, it's extremely inappropriate and Mr. Jane wouldn't approve."_

_“I don't know what's going on exactly. I just know that Matthew never lied to me before, never disobeyed me … and then he met you.“_

_“Are you falling in love with that boy?“_

_"I'm sorry, Matthew. Forgive me. Please."_

_”I'm pregnant.”_

_”I want to marry you.”_

_”We're married, then.”_

Michael startled awake. He drew a shaky breath and wiped a hand down his sweaty face. It was almost silent around him – only the occasional car driving by and a clock ticking in the corner. The street lamps lit the room just enough to make out the outlines of the furniture of the lounge. Michael fumbled for his iPod on the floor next to the couch and put on his headphones, turning the music on. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to let go of the tension in his muscles. 

The past few days were catching up with him, he knew. Meeting Jack for real had opened all channels of his ability and sleeping in a place Jack had called a home away from home made it worse, causing the fractured memories of Jack and Matthew's relationship to haunt him in his dreams. 

To distract himself, he turned his thoughts to Jack's suggestion: Leading Torchwood Two. 

Michael had grown up in Germany. He'd spent his life there. But he'd also often been at Torchwood Two in his teenage years and later on, visiting Archie and helping him. He liked it here. And being closer to Jack would be a plus as well. He knew his decision was already made, really. 

He opened his eyes, looking over at the fireplace where he'd sat with Archie during his last visit.

_“Darker things are to come. Bad things,” Archie said._

_Michael twisted the glass of Scotch in his hands, looking at the reflection of the fire in the liquid. ”You can't tell me what?”_

_”No. But your father might need you.”_

_”My father doesn't even know I'm still alive.”_

_”He will need you.”_

Michael was slowly coming to realize that Archie hadn't tried to make him consider to go and see Jack, as he'd initially thought. He'd been talking about this, about Torchwood Two. 

About his own death. 

So there wasn't a choice, really. This was supposed to happen.

***

Janice turned in a slow circle while walking towards the centre of the room, trying to see what had once been here. The old ballroom in Cardiff's city centre was now dusty and abandoned, broken and neglected. Once it must have brimmed with life. She could almost hear the music, see the couples dance. The morning sun made the dust particles whirling through the air sparkle, giving the room an unreal, ethereal atmosphere. ”How come,” she asked, ”that you needed me to bring her here?”

Bilis Manger turned away from the woman sitting in the chair and she slumped, falling off it and to the floor. He didn't seem to care, turning to Janice fully and righting his cravat. ”I was busy,” he answered. 

Janice scoffed a laugh and stopped next to the limp body, crouching down to brush black hair out of her face. ”She's a beauty, isn't she?” she asked. ”You can't argue Captain Harkness's taste. It's varied but good.”

Bilis raised an eyebrow. ”He doesn't chose his companions based on looks.”

”I wasn't talking about looks. We had interesting talents at Torchwood Four but never so many at the same time. Two empaths ...”

”Only one of them presented.”

”Oh, Mr. Harper is just a matter of time,” Janice replied. ”You can't keep an empath bottled up forever. Gifts like that break out.”

”Imagine what they could achieve together,” Bilis said. ”Mr. Jones and Mr. Harper … if they ever decided to join their gifts.”

Janice smiled. ”Well … we'll find out.” She grinned. ”Then there's Miss Cooper. Very interesting.”

”A child of the Rift. Clearly, nobody – not even Harkness – has the slightest idea what she is able to do.”

”Oh, he must know on some level. He let her into his team, after all,” Janice answered.

”Kinship. He felt a connection,” Bilis explained. ”The Captain is bound to the Rift himself, after all.”

”And then there is this one.”

Bilis smiled thinly. ”Miss Sato is certainly more than meets the eye. Not simply a potential anchor … she could be more than that.”

”Such a waste,” Janice said. ”That Harkness has them all.”

”He won't have them much longer,” Bilis replied. ”I'm finished with her. If you would see to it that she gets home safely? She won't remember the abduction and I'm glad you saw to it that no bruises would remain.”

”We have them all on our side now, yes?”

”Not exactly,” Bilis answered. ”We don't need them on our side, all we need them to be is not on Captain Harkness's side and when the time comes, the images and ideas I planted in their heads will make them doubt his leadership and go for the Rift manipulator to right the wrongs. Divide and conquer. He'll be too busy fending off his own to fight us.”

Janice chuckled. ”I have to admit: Good work.”

”Thank you,” Bilis said, his face clearly showing how much he didn't need her praise.

”What about the Rift manipulator part we had Jones steal for us?”

”It's done,” Bilis answered. ”It was a bit more difficult than I thought it would be but the coordinates are entered and the Rift should now open exactly above my Master, making it possible for him to rejoin the world. All we need now is for them to find it and use it.”

”The trap is laid,” Janice said. 

Bilis nodded. ”If I only didn't feel like we are walking into one as well.”

”You mean the Rift quakes?” Janice asked.

”Yes.” Bilis sighed deeply, looking very thoughtful. “Something is moving in the shadows. Something powerful.”

“More powerful than us?”, Janice asked, doubting that.

Bilis put on his white gloves and straightened the lapels of old-fashioned suit. ”More powerful than anything I've ever seen before.”

***

“Jack.”

He opened his eyes. Rose was standing at the window of the hotel room, bathed in the early morning sunlight. He sat up, noting that Ianto was still fast asleep. ”Rose.” 

She smiled. ”My beautiful boy,” she said. Her face twisted in pain and she gasped. 

Jack didn't get up to help her, knowing that she wasn't really there. ”What is going on?”

”I'm losing,” she whispered, brushing her blonde hair back, her beautiful eyes welling with tears.

Jack swallowed. ”You're not Rose. Who are you?”

She smiled sadly. ”The one who loves you. The one who has always loved you. I never meant to leave you. Please be strong. Please don't run. I will find you again, it doesn't have to be ...” She vanished. 

Jack stared at the spot where she'd stood for a long time, waiting for her to come back, but something told him that she wouldn't.

***

She screamed; partly in pain, partly because she'd lost the connection to her Jack.

”Got you!” he exclaimed gleefully, clapping his hands. ”No more escaping, it's not allowed. You're messing with timelines. That goes against your very nature, so why are you doing it?”

She sobbed. 

Harald Saxon was still holding the sonic screwdriver, breathing heavily. ”Such a clever girl!” he said. ”Looking for Jack. Warning him. It won't help! What do you think will happen? That he doesn't run for the Doctor the moment he sees him? The moment he hears him land? Of course he will! So stop disobeying me!” He pointed the screwdriver at her interface and activated it. 

The TARDIS screamed again. 

”I was careless. I tried the paradox engine out much too soon. Quite obvious that you would use it to your advantage, but you didn't expect the Rift quakes either, did you? Almost destroyed the world your husband loves so much.” He wiped sweat off his forehead. ”That won't happen again. Next time, I'm going to make sure that it works.” He took a deep breath. ”And I will thank Jack properly once everything's done, for bringing you to me.” He chuckled and calmed down visibly. ”The immortal man, so useful. Just like his little team of misfits. And of course the extended family.” He leaned against her centre console. ”So, how to build a paradoxon machine without the TARDIS interrupting the procedure? Oh! I know!” 

He turned around with an evil grin, staring at her darkly. 

”I have to switch you off.”

And everything went black.

 

END  
09/14


End file.
